To be honest, it is rather difficult to get the boy to cooperate during his photo shoots. He's not thrilled with being wrapped up in The Red Thing. He'd rather be covered in mud or baked into a cinnamon roll or, at the very least, running around naked. But occasionally I manage to get a shot like the one featured above. I call it "Garrett in Cummerbund" and I can just see him in bright red pants. Now I know you're all fired up and running out the door to buy your best guy TWO Magic Scarves. That way his tie and his cummerbund will match. And if it's that adorable on a toddler, just think of how, um, magical, it will look on your man. I hear they are all the rage at weddings.
If you're wondering what that big splotch of wetness is on Garrett's left shoulder, well, that would be drool. This shot was taken when he was fighting valiantly to overcome his cold. When his nose is plugged it seems that he loses his ability to simultaneously breathe through his mouth and swallow his own saliva. I hope that he manages to overcome this or he's going to have a difficult time as an adult in the professional world. Apparently, though, it's genetic. While I have the presence of mind to swallow my own spit when my nose is plugged and not wear it proudly on my shirt, the stories about my nighttime drool are practically legendary. It's really attractive, I'm sure. So now you know what my poor husband deals with as a large part of that love, honor and cherish business. It's probably awesome when he climbs into bed, glances over at me, and wonders if I might drown in my own pool of saliva. It probably makes him love me more just knowing that he might have to resuscitate me in the night. No worries though, people. I was a competitive swimmer for ten years. I can hold my breath for a really long time.