My Son, David Bowie

Grandma's arrival for the holidays has brought with it the advent of nail polish to the Homestead. Both kids have embraced the toxic smells, the smears, the utter joy of altering their appearance. We bought a bottle of blue, green and turquoise at the grocery store this afternoon. The house is certainly more glamorous. Monito is particularly partial to the pedicure.
He has been compensating for any doubts about his masculinity by wrassling with his sister at every opportunity. He sets traps, piling up pillows, and then pounces.