That’s some food porn.
I wanted to share one amusing misprision on my part. In the passage describing the bedtime prep of young Z, you describe stuffing him into his crib ... but for some reason I read it as “stuff him into a cab,” which prompted a brief fantasia in which the gurgling lad’s freshly powdered bottom is strapped into the back seat of a yellow taxi, the driver enjoined to “Take him down to the Mission and show him a good time.”
No hurry. That kid’ll be painting the town before you know it.
Posted by Sime on 12/11 at 07:59 PM
