Few babies are cuter or cheekier. We had fun holding this one, when she'd allow it.
Look at those bad parents—tubing with an infant. J
We love it when JJ comes out in the ski boat. We all try to impress him, the family "natural." Dad made him water ski, snow ski, play (insert every sport here), etc., etc., all by age 3. He can beat you at anything. Even math. Even Boggle. Slalom crashes are more frequent and more severe when he's in the boat.
Boxer wasn't thrown overboard once. I don't think he even got wet. He burried all of his treats on the beach—in case we left him there.
And Janie dug up every last one.
I don't know when or how it happened, but Jace has arrived at Aunt Debi status in terms of extended family. He's the cool uncle, if you will—the skydiving, firefighting uncle who buys stuffed pink poodles at the marina for his nieces even though he never had to buy toys or candy to them to get them to adore him.
Watching Jace and Holly, wearing Evergreen Fire and Rescue crap, strap their kayak to their Volkswagen wagaon with the Colorado plates and two dogs in the back made me get that homesick twinge in my stomach, like, "Oh, look at the cute Coloradans!" I love it.
Also tender: when Jace, as he was leaving, gave Madison her own Evergreen Fire and Rescue T-shirt, 10 sizes too big, and she insisted on wearing it to bed that night.
The aforementioned trophy winners. We finally beat JJ at something!
Spencer left early to make it home for class and ended up spending a night stranded in Hanksville (where he also dropped his phone in the urinal. Had to tear his phone to pieces, dry it out, and rebuild it.). Maybe he'll share more on his misfortunes later. But I got to ride home with Jage, Jenn, and the babies. Wish they still lived in Provo! I love you guys.
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