The husband and I, we like to play a game called Most Likely. It’s a fun game where we’ll have discussions about which kid is most likely to be/do whatever.
Like Kirsten, most likely to be head prefect. Most likely to have kids the earliest. Most likely to have a large collection of shoes.
Truett, most likely to be a dinosaur whisperer. Or a scientist. Most likely to do great in sports. And walk into a wheelbarrow. Not at the same time, obviously.
Finn, most likely to be a male model, zoolander style. Probably most likely to be a performer.
With Theo, the game has been tricky because the options are so hard to narrow down. But I’ve finally got a good one. Theo, most likely to be a beefcake. Also most likely to win a shouting contest.
I suppose it’s a good thing, that he loves food as much as he does. It’s such a delight feeding this little baby shark, he eats everything and with so much enthusiasm like he’s enjoying every bite.
Baby Theo has 2 modes when it comes to food. And not just cake either. This behaviour has extended to food of all varieties.
NO WAY. WHAT IS THIS DELICIOUS MORSEL OF GOODNESS?!!
Then Sir Shoutalot here gets all shouty and grunty like WHY IS THERE NO MORE FOOD IN MY MOUTH THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!!
I’ve never seen anyone so emo about food, it’s so adorable. Every meal is an intense experience of joy and shoutiness.
And then sometimes, there’s this face. I love this face. I could eat this face all day.
Seriously, is this beefcake material or what? This baby is most likely to have muscles as big as my head.
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