T and I were extremely slow today as we spent last night at a friend's 40th birthday party and had a seriously fun time. For hours we laughed with some of our best friends and today regaled each other with memories of the hilarious, sweeping range of topics covered:

mammograms, for those with an ample bosom and those without;
being asked your weight before climbing aboard very small aircraft and knowing you cannot lie but feeling remarkably disappointed in said fact because you're asked very publicly and are pregnant but not totally obviously so;
male- and female- pattern hair thinning and baldness as we age;
when your kids are assholes;
when your kids are funny;
tequila and good versus subpar margaritas;
losing your shit in airports;
bra shopping.

I'm still chuckling. I am also tired. It is abundantly clear that I am not remotely close to my 20s anymore. Neither is Tom.

Ol and I went to the farmers market where he inhaled a mango lassi and a croissant before declaring himself stuffed and ready to go home. A couple hours later, Jack and I went to the regular market where he inhaled a mango smoothie and a giant plate of tacos, rice and beans before shopping with me and inhaling a jelly donut. #boys

On a regular basis I consider it possible that Tom and I will declare bankruptcy during the boys' teen years: they eat that much! And where it goes, who knows? Observe J's back.

Don't you always wear pajama bottoms and a storm trooper helmet to shoot Nerf darts at Lego men perched on Magna Tile castles at 8:30am on a Sunday? I thought so.

Dinner tonight was the epitome of summer fare. Easy, beautiful, simply delicious. As I served our tomato sandwiches, T said he'd never had one before. WHAT THE HELL!?! Have y'all had tomato sandwiches? All white bread and mayo and salt? The best. And, the toms are from my garden. That is a simple joy not easily found elsewhere.