Oliver’s day, or at least the part I was awake for, started with a visit to Dr. Champion for his annual checkup. Oliver used this occasion to provide us with a full-on introduction to the “terrible twos” and conducted a cosmic freakout, complete with writhing and screaming, that effectively prevented the good Doctor from doing anything more than looking in his ears and weighing him.
We returned home to gifts in the mail from Brother Mike and the Carlisle grandparents. Oliver was especially intrigued by Mike’s present of a “shapes cage” wherein the goal is to place the appropriate shape in the appropriately shaped hole. He was very frustrated at the lack of universality in the game — i.e. that round peg would not fit in square hole. This seems like a Good Sign to me.
Tonight, Oliver’s small birthday gathering was graced with many luminaries from near and far.
First there was Catherine Hennessey, host of the gathering, and gifter of a prized pink piggy bank with promises to fill same with toonies as the years progress.
Catherine’s sister Mary Clare (or Marie Claire; I can’t get her to tell me) was there as well, and as well as marshaling together a fantastic salad, was her usual charming self.
Just as the night was reaching a fever pitch — candles lit and me ready to teach Oliver how to blow — who should walk in by AE Thurlow and her crew.
Candles were blown, stories told, and a good time was had by all.
Onward and upward to the threes.