Mr. Potter...No, not Harry.

This is how Jack travels around the house. He weighs so much (I'm guessing around 18 pounds) that we can't manage carrying him. If we're doing anything for an extended amount of time, such as cleaning the bathrooms or cooking, he gets to tag along in his high chair. Whenever I push him around I feel like his maid. Like he's an old, rich man in an ornate wooden wheelchair who is about to ask me to light his stinky cigar before he signs some important contract. Very similar to Mr. Potter from "It's a Wonderful Life." You know, the mean banker who tries to shut the Bailey Brothers' bank down. (I'm getting mad all over again just thinking about the injustice.) John and I play the role of the no name guy who wheels Mr. Potter around. I'm just waiting for a chubby little arm to start pointing me in the direction he wants to go.

The weather was blah in Bluffton today. Cloudy and chilly. Jack and I went to lunch with some of my girlfriends. He's getting better with his restaurant etiquette. The wooden high chairs are now an option for us, and he interacts with the people at surrounding tables. That's a good thing, too. Where we used to get the "Oh no, here comes a baby" glare, we now get excited faces because Jack will flash anyone his debonair smile. He smiles all the time.
I finally bathed Jack today.
It's been a week I'm ashamed to admit. But, really, what does he do to get dirty? We keep the nether regions cleaned from multiple diaper changes a day, and we clean his hands and face several times as well. That's good enough, right? He obviously enjoys his time in the water. Just after this picture was taken, Jack peed in his own face. He looked up at me confused as if he was thinking, "Where did THAT come from?" Boys will be boys.