miles on the left, max folded In half and trying to nap.
Molly proudly displaying the shoes she won the The Great Church Shoe Battle of '13. War is still being fought, Mama is nursing her wounds and recovering well.
Man Jumping on Trampoline by Molly, age 4.5. He really does look like he's getting some wicked air.
Claire and her superhero book. Adorbs.
Miles and his cute little eye.
Claire dumps hot chocolate on the kitchen floor, the dining room floor and on top of her head. Mommy maintains her composure, miraculously, and takes a picture.
Silly boys having a little breakfast. Two is always better than one.
He's a man of mystery, that Max.
There are also millions and millions of dogs named Max.
Grinch: All I need is a reindeer!
Narrator: The Grinch looked around, but since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found. Did that stop the Grinch? Ha! The Grinch simply said...
Grinch: If I can't *find* a reindeer, I'll *make* one instead.
Narrator: So he took his dog Max, and he took some black thread, and he tied a big horn on the top of his head.
Our Max is far cuter than any dog I've ever met. And he doesn't bark as much. (Max on the left, our bruised little Pickle on the right. A (doll)house fell on him, much like that horrific scene in the Wizard of Oz.
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