My Son, the Sophisticate

I'm learning that my child has rather cultured tastes. For example:

Lately the juice he's been drinking doesn't feature images of Elmo or heaps of high fructose corn syrup. No, he's been preferring the piquant, antioxidant flavors of Northland cranberry juice sippy'd from his cup. I mean, they market this stuff to grownups, I'm so proud!







He also has excellent comedic timing, or at least he understands dry wit when he hears it. Most kids prefer their jokes saturated and overexplained, and Jimmy does too, but he also busts a gut over the nuanced humor of Woody Allen, Bob Newhart, Ellen DeGeneres, and Oscar Wilde. I can't even get him near the PBS Mark Russell Comedy Special without going through 3 diaper changes, he laughs and laughs and laughs. Awww, my wry little guy.




For dessert, Jimmy loves pears.



Ok, well maybe he's never actually eaten a poached pear, but no doubt about it, this kid loves pears! And the way I figure, this love is just one step short of the inevitable indulgence of his first elegant poached pear flambé. And that's just dang classy.



(Add'l note: see how his wearing a Wall-E top. As in Wall-E, the poster bot for the eco-conscious ways of the liberal elite. Oh, yeah. That's my son rocking those jammies.)









And finally, my cultured son loves to parade in the traditional folk wears of his heritage: lederhosen. Kannst you say "Zeltfest!"


















Alas, I am sure you agree, I am the mother of one very cultivated toddler!