Day 2: Smooth sailing

And on the second day, he slept. Then slept some more. Still sleeping. Woke up a bit. Ate a little. Back to sleep again.

That's pretty much been the Skipper's routine on Day 2 of his thus far, not-so-exciting life, save for the 10 minutes when a doctor and a sharp knife declared war on Keaton's privates. They won, the pirates, but one day we shall meet again.

Mommy is recovering nicely and was able to get up and shower. She has complaints about the hospital meatloaf, which I contend is not really meat, but is decidedly loafish. It still beats the liquid diet she was on before, which consists of jello, some sorbet, and a variety of broths that I imagine to be comparable in taste to the IV fluids that were pumping through her veins.

The good Cap'n Quinn is still getting used to his new sidekick. He enjoys holding Keaton on his lap -- "Put him on my pants, Daddy?" -- giving him nuzzling little kisses on the nose. It's cute for all of five minutes, when he resorts again to the rambunctiousness that comes with being two-and-a-half years old. It's clear, though, that he really loves his little brother.

As you can see in the picture above, Keaton is just starting to take a look at the world through those big beautiful eyes.

There's a lot to see, buddy, and a lot of time to see it. Take your time.

Go back to sleep.