Bouncy Czech

Bouncy son and Bunkerella enjoying their toys – so far they are not sharing them.

Struggling to come up with a name for this image. Silly and snoutless? My deformed dog? (look at my mad photography skills – I gave my dog a nose job by over-exposing her)

Proof of Bunkerella’s nose. It exists.

My baby started waving bye-bye.

And I am finally saying good-bye to these:

We are both growing up.

*Dinner time*

“You can’t just eat bread and nutella alone! Put some butter on your bread first.”

Said the wife of the fitness trainer (my mom).

* if the champion’s dad is obsessed with nutrition and said champion is nursing a baby and a cold the size of Denmark. In other words: poor me…

means that the soup is on the stove and that the fridge looks depressing with lonesome jars of mustard and applesauce (O Hai Sister! totally stealing your applesauce reference!)

And say goodbye to this cheerful book:

I was a tad concerned about the googly eyes falling out of the book and becoming a chocking hazard but Mr. Bouncy alerted me to a totally different doomsday scenario.

“The rhyme scheme is off and if there’s one thing I am going to protect my son from, THAT is it!”

Bunkerella before her haircut:

And after (OMG: the winter is over):

I meant to post this photo as a photohunt (this week’s theme: purple) but i was too busy erasing 150 purplish flower pictures from my camera.

And here a lazy Saturday in the park…

Spring ROCKS!