The Numbers Go To 11

Got home from the salt mine this evening to see that W was just waking up from a nap (translation: "Hello extended evening in babyland."). Pops was at the recording studio working on some songs so after shoveling cereal and mommy hooch into the kiddo, we put on our sweaters and scooted over there to make sure there were no strippers doing lap dances and no empty bottles of Cristal lying around but then I remembered that we don't live in LA so I drove a little slower. We arrived there and W was immediately put to work. Witness...

Here is W considering the usage of the red marker in his work.















Here are the hands of a hardworking tot.















"Did someone say mailbox money?"
















We had a good time but had to get our buns home and in to bed. We're not quite rock stars yet.