You know how, sometimes, baby legs don’t thin down from the calves, so they end up with cankles? In this house, we feel like Henry’s thighs call the shots. Say hello to this boy’s thankles.
I wished and wished for a roly-poly baby. He was always such a tiny wisp of a thing. And now at ten months he has suddenly, gloriously chubbed up into fatness. Sturdy legs and a proud pot belly. Oh, I love it. But talk about a late bloomer.
I confess, sometimes I leave his trousers off just to watch the rolls in action.