Tracey took this picture of Austin on the night she so nicely let David and I go out and eat some food, alone, without the Choogler, better known around the neighborhood and in the house as the boy who throws things. Tracey assures me that Austin was not travelling too quickly on the skateboard, which I believe, because she has an even more active imagination than I do about all the terrible things that can happen to children at each and every minute. I would find this hard to believe because I am always imagining the worst that could possibly occur, but I have seen it on her face, she wins this contest hands down. Which brings me back to the original point. Which was that Austin was not travelling very fast on the skateboard, even though he covered his eyes when he approached the pile of stuff that his mother had left in the hall. Which I find fairly endearing to be honest.

Notice the black cat in the picture. That is Axel, a lovely cat of cat if there ever was one. Axel is no longer with us, or with Tracey either. Axel is in a better place (I hope), a place where there are a lot of small grey stuffed animals to hump and lead paint to lick. And a sunbeam to sleep in and a bathtub to pee in. And possibly a potted plant to chew on. I miss that cat.

Austin is growing so fast. I go to work in the afternoon and then when I see him again, which is the next morning, it's like he's a different person. A person could almost have a conversation with Austin now, if that is indeed who he is. David swears they talk about things like the Sexual Politics of Teletubbies, or what's better, plastic blocks or wooden ones? I myself have not yet been privy to these conversations, but in time I am sure he will want to talk to me about the water quality in old houses or perhaps why Ikea has become the empire that it is now. I am just waiting.