Taking the Boy Out Of The Bayou

Way back when, we nicknamed W our Cajun Shrimp. It was cute and fitting and "bayou" enough to keep us grounded in our LA roots. But really, at what point in the future do you want your boy to be called a shrimp? None right, so the little guy found himself with a new name. He found himself to be The Sheriff.

So we've taken this boy out of the bayou and into the...well, the hard streets of the suburbs. But, the adage holds true: you can take the boy out of the bayou, but you can't take the bayou out of the boy. Although the kid says, "on" like he's straight out of The Bible Belt, we've got a crawfish lover to prove it. There are loads of pictures to come and I should have collaged them; I know.

 We attempted to sneak in our first of the season during W's nap but someone woke up interested.

Someone enjoyed a few, only to be interrupted by pointing out the aviation noises above. 

Cajuns...doing the Cajun thing.

While I love how observant W can be and how he correctly handled live crawfish from the beginning as if he was born with that knowledge instead of watching us do it, we send Dad over for backup just in case.

 It's like he's waiting for it to do something...like fly perhaps.

Fine, don't fly on your own accord, but a certain toddler is pretty darn good at making helicopters out of things completely unrelated.

Bayou boys:

And just because there aren't enough pictures of toddlers and #3 tubs:

Fearless I tell ya. Check out our current phase in "smile Wyatt"

I'm seeing a theme here. Next year we'll work on mother/son crawfish poses.