"It's organic, Mommy. Jessica, it's organic."

Elliott is on my lap right now. Jessica's lap. He has taken to calling me by name -- John, too -- if we don't respond to our parental monikers when he's called them out two or three times. The trouble is, it works. Our ears perk up and we realize we were ignoring our darling little boy for eight seconds, so then we respond to our first names. Yowza.

The title of this entry comes from a recent trip we made in the jogging stroller to Harris Teeter, a new grocery store about a mile away. I told Elliott we would replenish our applesauce if that had some that was organic. It was molto expensivo, but I stuck true to my word. When we arrived home and he unloaded our purchases from our bag, he informed me, "It's organic, Mommy." Now every time I mention the store, he brings up the applesauce.

Here are some photos of Elliott at the garden center and at a trucks display with his friend, Gautham. Elliott insisted on also adding the sheep photo even though he kept saying "go home in the car" while the poor thing was being sheared.
We left the demo to see the music part of the farm festival, and Elliott loved the bluegrass - he just sat staring at the musicians, a far cry from saying "No, no, no" to the turkey's gobble.

At the truck display, he also started out scared and asked to leave. I told him we were waiting for our friends to arrive and that he didn't have to go in anything. As you can tell, eventually he warmed up to the idea.