The Many Faces of the Tater.

Here are some of the things Tate's been up to lately. Besides his usual evildoings, of course.

We went on a firestation tour today. After a little cajoling Tate agreed to don a fireman's jacket. It fits well, no? And the look of pure joy and thrill on his face...just warms the heart.

While we were in Minneapolis for Disney on Ice, we also hit up the Mall of America. I love that place. I used to LIVE there, hitting up Contempo Casuals and Maurices for the babydoll dresses and velvet chokers that were just so very nifty at the time. This is Tate at the amusement park in the mall. Yeah, he's sideways. I always forget to rotate the pictures before I put them on here. Deal.

Here's Tate decked out in some fine regalia. We've got the free skull cap we got in our gift bag at DOI (Disney On Ice for those of you not in the loop), his VIP pass that was so long on him it practically dragged on the floor, and his Bob the Builder toolbelt. Hawt. The dopey look on his face is just the icing on the cake. Cute, though, no?

I feel bad that there are no pictures of Nora in this batch. Lately most of my shots of her have been on her little booty as she crawls the hell away from me as fast as she can. She has no time whatsoever in her busy life to sit still for 3 nanoseconds so I can snap a picture. It's the Huggie Butt Blur, 2009.

Oh, wait! Here's one! Please notice the expression of pure exultation on her face. It's kind of hard to see, but let me assure you, she was screaming her ASS off. I had interupted her quest to find each and every strand of loose carpet fiber on the floor possible. She loves that stuff. I think it must taste like lollipops.

I am watching American Idol. What the hell did Paula do to her face? It's like Michael Myers from Halloween mixed with a Siamese cat with a little Joan Rivers thrown in there. I think all the Botox and collogen have finally, officially, COMPLETEY ruined any shred of sanity the poor dear had left. They've seeped into the little section marked "sanity" in her brain and completely obliterated it. Listening to her talk is like listening to the weird drunk aunt on somebody's wedding video who got ahold of the microphone and won't let it go.

PAULA: "I loved your song choice! You sounded like a little puppy who mated with Robert Wagner and then went and ate a sandwich! It's very ADMIRABLE! You are so wonderful to watch! It's like running in a field of cabbage while watching bunnies copulate with little mini Gloria Estefans and playing with a big bowl of zippers! You sounded TIMELESS! And you're so beautiful! Your dress looks like a wee little puff of styrofoam egg cartons! It's so RELEVENT! Watch me while I clap like a seal and writhe around drunkenly!"

Please stop me before I ever get to that point.