Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or maybe I have other things going on.
Since my posts seem to have years between them and I stink (literally, I need a shower), here is a short but picturesque update from the life of Amos.
Sunday kicked off the inaugural Jazz in the Park, a free concert in City Park every Sunday evening. It is lovely and wonderful and full of rainbows and kittens. Aside from the awkwardness at the end of the concert when I realized that one of the musicians is my neighbor (the one I curse because he likes to smoke and stare into my windows and because his car alarm would go off at the slightest breeze), it was a swell evening enjoyed by every Porter, big and small.
Amos knows how to start a jazz picnic out right: with a nice, cold Fat Tire.
Every few minutes, Amos would boogie and exhibit this crazy-happy expression, which I call Jazz Face. Although I'm sure my son will burn in the fiery pits of hell for dancing and holding a beer (at least, according to my Southern Baptist upbringing), I'm willing to take that chance just to see this gorgeous, goofy smile over and over. I am guessing that the fiery pits of hell have advanced upon Phil's stomach at this point in the picnic. It might have something to do with the alien on his chest (or is the alien IN his chest?!)
(No, I don't know why a grown woman brought a giant Teddy Bear to the picnic. *cue the "Teddy Bear's Picnic" song*)
To further solidify his place in hell, Amos continued to dance and give Jazz Face. He tapped and thumped his cheese stick to the rhythm of the heathen music.
Jazz Face, Jazz Cheese, and Jazzy Phil (not to mention Jazz Alien and Jazz Hat).
Amos puked on his outfit (what's a picnic without a little puke, I ask you?), but that didn't stop him from struttin' and boppin'.
Amos struts over to the pavilion to give Jazz Face to the neighbor whose car wakes him up at night.
Here is photographic evidence that shows that Amos has possibly inherited my curls! YAY!
The End. I hope you enjoyed our excursion. We'll be there every Sunday. I cannot deny the Face.
15 beautiful people muttered something back:
1) Amos is so flippin' cute it should be ILLEGAL!
2) We live right next to City Park...literally, it's like our backyard.
3) We STILL haven't been to Jazz on the park because we're LAME-O's.
4) I can't smell you from here, so you must not be THAT stinky.
In the interest of not having Child Protective Services hunting us down, I should point out that Amos did not, in fact, drink the beer. He did, however, manage to pull it out of the picnic basket, which is no small accomplishment considering his size. It would be like you, dear reader, hoisting a bottle the size of your leg. And if you could use your tiny hands to work the bottle opener required for that excessively large container, wouldn't you deserve at least a few slugs from it?
Okay, seriously, I will go to CPJ with you, but not this week because I will be at a BBQ that you are supposed to be at too. So you will not be there either. But we will def do this together this summer at least a couple of time! Woot!
Awesome, Amos has great taste in music!
That face, those curls... and jazz outdoors? Perfect!
And heh, cute shirt, Daddy.
Oh my word he has grown so much! Where does that time go?
Yay for perfect park days! Amos has truly blossomed (is that the right word for a boy?) and certainly has mastered the hoisting of the Fat Tire bottle. He'll be bench pressing a Sapporo can in no time!
J
Amos is adorable, especially when wielding a cheese stick.
Great pictures, looks like you had a good day.
OMW he's so cute!! Looks like you're having a fantastic time there!
Jazz Face is fantastic! Such a splendidly handsome young man. :-)
That back of the head shot made me miss Braden's curls. *sniff*
Looks like fun! I wish we had jazz night? All we get is a Dio cover band.
What a beautiful jazz face! Some of my best memories of childhood are of attending concerts in the park. Nice to see some things go on.
What fun! (I also read this blog awhile ago, but failed to comment. I suck.)
Yay for Amos enjoying the jazz! I'm certain that music of that quality is a gift from above, rather than a ticket to the underworld. But I digress.
Not sure about the alcohol, though. That could be the deciding factor in Amos' eternal fate. If that's the case, I'll be there dancing along with him! (By the way, the next time you decide to give your child alcohol, you may not want to intoxicate him so much that he pukes on himself. That pretty much gives it away.)
I'm highly amused by the lady with the stuffed dog. It looks as if the dog is trying to get frisky with her, and she hasn't noticed it's there yet. Or I could just be a pervert.
Love The Face! Seriously, I think I am going to be seeing that in my sleep. Love you Amos...
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