Our eldest daughter turned 4 years old today. We thought she started out as a pretty good-looking kid, but some of those radioactive isotopes Becky was snorting during her pregnancy must have caused some really freakish beauty enhancing genes to start manifesting. I'm hoping these genes turn off by the time she starts dating. Maybe if we're lucky she'll get acne or tusks or something.
We celebrated by forcing friends and relatives to come to a spray park and consume extraordinarily sweet cupcakes near a spray park.
Samantha has built up a tolerance for toxic levels of glucose ingestion. Some of the adults fared far worse.
Ella and Cooper spent a good part of the afternoon crouched like Neanderthals, grunting at passersby and scraping at shiny rocks.
Melissa and her daughter, Brookelin are smiling here, but they're both threatening Lucy at knifepoint to reveal the secret to Samantha's fusion equations.
Here's a moose-eye view of the cupcake decoration table. Can you guess which topping bowl held the hidden happy wasp?