33 and counting

Last week we celebrated Alex’s 33rd birthday with brunch at Ousie’s with all the Walls. Zach asked to be dressed like his dad and grandad – in khaki pants and a polo shirt. His grandad went so far as to tuck in Zach’s shirt which makes my baby look like a 45 year old with a beer gut. Zach did not seem to mind, it did not stop him from splashing in the fountain at the restaurant. But when his grandad pulled out his comb, well that just crossed the line. Zach barely puts up with me combing his hair after a bath.
Alex told a sweet story about his dad’s comb. He said that when he was a little boy and thinking about being a grown up he got nervous about how he was going to carry everything he needed. He would have to carry a wallet, car and house keys and of course a little black comb. He was baffled at how he would be able to carry it all! I guess he realized that he did not need a comb if he kept his hair cut high and tight. Lucky me.

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