More Rice

Like most babies, I'm sure my first words were simple ones. "Mama" and "Dada," probably. Well, those and for some reason, "Motorcycle," pronounced "Mo-cycle." My parents said it just came out of me one day for no reason at all. These single words were quickly replaced with two word phrases which brings me to the story my Dad could tell over and over again. (And he does.) When I was a baby, my favorite food was rice. My parents would give me a little pile on the tray of my high chair and like a ravenous animal, I would attack the pile as though I hadn't eaten in weeks. Due to my lack of fine motor skills and poor hand/eye coordination, most of the rice ended up on the floor, in my lap, in my hair and in my eyes. My parents remember laughing hysterically as I would slam my flat palm, speckled with rice kernels, against my mouth in the hopes that a few would make it onto my tongue. And, as soon as I would look down at my empty tray I would look up at my parents and say, "More rice!" And if more rice was not in front of me the moment I demanded it I would ask for it again, louder and with more conviction.

"Moooorrre riiiiice!"

"MOOOOOORRRRRE RIIIIIIIICE!!!!!!!!"

So, I few days ago, we gave Charlie his first sampling of solid food. And naturally, we chose rice. Brown rice cereal to be exact.

He was a bit hesitant at first.



Then he decided he wanted to hold the spoon. Shortly after this, he proceeded to gag himself with it.



All in all, I think he enjoyed himself.



That's my boy.