I imagine that a normal person would be a bit perturbed to discover a Toy Story band-aid while making his bed, would be at least somewhat fazed by it. My reaction--living, as I do, with a four-year-old--was, "Huh."

For whatever reason, I can't seem to stop taking pictures of Jason while he's watching TV. I look at this picture and can't help but think how big his feet look, how old he looks. Put a little hair on his legs and he could be a teenager. Hell, he could be me.

Juliette and I took the kids trick-or-treating with some friends, which Jason had been excited about and looking forward to for weeks. The evening air was mild and the people were friendly. The kids couldn't restrain themselves from running ahead, trying to get to the next house and its candy as quickly as possible. It was sweet and fun, and full of nostalgia for me.

So, of course, I went and made a bunch of pictures with a completely different feeling.

I hope you all had a safe and happy Halloween!

I've taken so many pictures of Jason by this point that he's pretty much over it. He often closes his eyes or turns away, or makes a face. One of the few scenarios in which I can consistently get a truly candid shot of him anymore is while he's watching TV--he's just too engrossed to notice. Takes after the old man that way.

This one was taken back in June. He looks different now, but his TV-watching face is the same.

Several times over the past few weeks, Juliette and I have been woken up in the wee hours of the morning by a small, slightly scared, slightly whiny voice telling us that he had a bad dream. At four in the morning we're usually pretty out of it, and as long as he's willing to go back to sleep we usually don't care if he's in his room. Thus, the above has become a somewhat common sight on the floor of our bedroom. The first few times this happened I'm sure he was telling the truth, but once he started showing up with an armload of pillows and blankets and stuffed animals, I'm pretty sure it had become an excuse. On the other hand, he usually sleeps past 7 on our floor, so I can't complain too much.

This is Jason's baby. His name is Deet. (I don't know why.) This was Eva's gift to her big brother upon the occasion of her birth. From what I can tell--and from what Jason tells me--Deet appears to be a nudist. (I don't know why.)

On Sunday, Juliette and Jason made some chocolate-chip-banana-apple-carrot-spinach bread. You wouldn't know it from the name, but it was actually quite tasty.

I remember doing this when I was Jason's age, falling asleep in the middle of a party, under a table or in a corner, waking up only when it was time to go.

Actually, I remember doing that in college, too, but I guess that's a different story.

The prospect of a pony ride was sufficient to distract Jason from both the availability of ice cream cones and my willingness to purchase them during our trip to the pumpkin patch this past weekend. Say one thing for this kid, he's got focus.

Mind you, as soon as the pony ride was done, it was time for ice cream.

(Who goes to a pumpkin patch in September, anyway? Us, apparently.)

While we were in Maine, the family and I decided to take a trip to the L. L. Bean store. We told Jason that he could have one thing. He picked this lobster. (And a pair of gloves, but that's another story.) He then told us that the lobster's name is Buster Tree. I don't know why. But it stuck.