Bre, come . . .

They all had, well, tummy problems. A bug we had not seen before. Preschool initiation. Gosh, guess they are potty trained; I mean, this many trips to the bathroom, no diaper, it dawns on me. Anyway, forget it. Let's go to Kansas City and spend the weekend over stimulating Uncle Bri (my bro)--all the way from California--and see the insides of public restrooms, a lot. This last year has been sometimes awful in public places where remaining reasonably quiet and still is required so restaurants have taken a vacation. Oh well, let's go!

And it was a blast. Thanks unc. Thank G for al fresco dining, good for triplets. The boyz wonder where you have gone, "Bre, come . . .come . . . " Out of ten, the triplets get an 8.5 for behavior and overall graciousness (I give Bri a 7.5) and really, any higher score and they probably need reviving. This is something good seeing that we've done 2.0s before. Make that negative 2.0. And when it was worse, like pouring a cosmo in my lap, as Tsega would say, "Maaake-up!" (Click for cartoon where T picked up this adorable shtick.)

This is what happens when three terrible toddlers unrestrained with energy and mobility finally (sort of, anyway) recognize boundaries. They become tolerable and presentable in public. Fun age. Still cute, not as crazy, but still crazy. Maybe big brother will share some KC shots as my hands were too full to steady a camera. So I share these instead, from few evenings ago. Boys tearing it up where the tree swing used to hang as sun fades. Summer's over baby.