Last Sunday, we loaded up the minivan and made the 2-hour trip to visit Dan's grandfather. Grandan, as we call him, had turned 95 the week before and we had some homemade goodies to bring him. Also, we wanted to introduce him to his namesake, our 6-week-old baby Jesse Winston. The trip was uneventful, if, by uneventful I am understood to mean minimal bickering and only one bathroom stop. We arrived and paraded the herd into Grandan's home, which he built in the '50's and lives alone in today. Let's just say that as we tromped in, Peace tromped out, dragging Quiet along behind.
One of my primary goals for this visit was to take pictures of baby Jesse with his great-grandfather Winston.
Now, our child is not normally cross-eyed and my husband doesn't normally smile like a used-car salesman. Poor Grandan had to endure an eternity of high-pitched baby calls, puncutated with every mild expletive I know, with the occasional "get down from there, Seth." It was torture, I tell you.
I took 61 pictures.
These are the best of the bunch.
It's the thought that counts, right?
To appreciate the full catastrophe, click on the pictures to view them full size.