supper.

supper.

Hank had a brilliant plan for our Labor Day weekend: a So-long Summer Sunday Supper. We invited our favorite people and feasted on smoked chicken and waffles.

One of our favorite people freaks me out. Well, he doesn’t per se, but here’s the skinny: he’s kind of a big deal. When I first met his wife (whom I loved immediately), I thought they were small potatoes like the rest of us, but I later learned that I was wrong. He’s admitted that his being-known-around-here is a liability for some of us, and so in a rather flummoxed moment for me during our Sunday Supper, I asked him just what I should do about including all of my favorite people in my beloved photos, and he suggested that I give him a nickname.

This made me do lots of name-generator searches on the web and I just wasn’t feeling any of the pirate names, or gangsta or mofia or rapper or celebrity ones. So, I asked the boys to do it for me.

They have nicknamed him, “Lard”.

It’s perfect.

A couple of my favorite people inspecting their most precious things.

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Our 4yo asked Lard’s daughter if she would live with him. But not right now…when they get older. This caused Lard to tell our youngest that he needed to have a talk with him. Let’s see how that played out, shall we?

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I think that you’re safe for now, Lard Jr.

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