Pakin' It III, Rittenhouse Style

Life with a baby tends to be a bit repetitious - but you don't mess with success. So today, on yet another beautiful Philadelphia afternoon, we packed up the stroller and headed to the park. First we stopped at the sneaker store and bought HusbandKV a new pair of running shoes. Then we discussed the big envelope that HusbandKV got in the mail outlining the board certification process.
DKV: This is ridiculous!
DHV: The $365 application fee, the $845 to actually take the written exam, or the $1060 plus airfare for the oral boards? Or is it this statistic here that 55% of your time is "spent delivering uncompensated care"?
DKV: I need to retire - when's your mother taking the Connecticut Bar?

With that adult-sized whining out of the way we soon discovered that the shoe box and tissue paper from our purchase could keep DHV entertained for a good half hour. It takes both hands to control that rascally paper:
DHV was very proud of the way he handled that box and took advantage of the opportunity to show off his 6 teeth.
Apparently the box workout made the little guy hungry though. Daddy's shoelace looked like it would be tasty . . .
. . . as did that salt-lick DKV calls a hat . . .
. . . but nothing hit the spot quite like the cheerios Mommy had packed.
Now that's a satisfied baby!
Then DHV climbed back into his ride and headed home.
"Check out those plastic rims, red trim, and mesh undercarriage. Pimp MY ride, baby!"