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boost

we went to bakers square for breakfast this morning, that being the only restaurant where we can reliably find something for paul to eat (by reliable, i mean we can always order the same thing and he will eat it).

the hostess took us to a booth in the back room. "could we have a highchair, please?" i asked as she set down the menus. she smiled and walked away. she returned with a highchair... and a booster seat. the last time we put him in a booster seat, he wobbled so much that i had to hang onto him and the seat at the same time. while eating.

paul: look! funny brown chair!

he was so clearly intrigued by the booster seat, we had to use it. reluctantly i set the seat down and paul climbed into it. a perfect fit! we took a zillion pictures and he looked happy (and proud) in almost all of them (the ones he wasn't smiling in, he smiled at later). but all good things come to an end -- and we learned you can't keep a kid corralled in a booster seat the way you can in a high chair. he could reach just about everything, and when he wanted out, we couldn't ignore him.

when we left the restaurant, i thought he was going to throw a fit and insist we take the booster seat with us. he almost did, actually. "funny brown chair. my brown chair. my funny brown chair!" he called out nervously, reaching for it. but a boy's memory is short, and the reminder of the park trip to follow had him eagerly heading for the door.

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