She Ain’t Seaworthy Cap’n

A stunningly beautiful day yesterday. Inspired the Monaco three for a little drive into Fairfield, a town a few clicks east of us. Had lunch at a family pub called Archie Moore’s. There’s something about that joint we really like, but I’m not sure what because there’s nothing terribly special about it. It’s not trying to be anything more than what it is, and maybe that's the secret.

We finished in time for some shopping along the main street. K and I thought it would be a good idea to amp up Cam’s book collection. The tales are getting stale. Whacky Wednesday ain’t so whacky the 60th time you’ve read it.

Cam loves books. She devours them. She ran aimlessly from aisle to aisle, pulling them off shelves, plopping herself down, flipping pages, chattering out loud. “Sit, Daddy.” She likes when I join her. I do, of course.

I’m glad the internet boom hasn’t destroyed bookstores. You can spend hours in there sampling this and that. I’ve always enjoyed getting lost in em.

We picked three classics for Cam: Cat in the Hat, Wocket in my Pocket, and Curious George. She loved Wocket in my Pocket and wouldn’t let it go. She had the book open, reading it on the way home, but finally had to close it when she vomited all over herself.

Yeah, I can’t read in cars either.

G