Despite his usual late afternoon/early evening reversion to a modern day scoundrel (more Ungern von Sternberg than Dennis the Menace), this blast from the past reminds me that my love for my oldest baby is will be sempiternal, however many vegetables he refuses to eat.
Yes, it's Henry and I the morning after his birth (earlier that morning). You can see that he was a bit battered and bruised by the whole experience. Maybe that explains his attitude of late, perhaps it is post-traumatic stress?
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I can't imagine being a single parent of either!