It was Saturday. I was running errands around the new house with Opa Paul riding shotgun in a rental cargo van to move some garden furniture friends of us gave us (they started the whole family biz early, so they're about to be empty nesters and they just moved from a house very near to our new house into an apartment around the corner from our current location, so we gave them restaurant tips, they gave us tons of garden equipment - score!) Fred and the boys stayed behind. Gleefully frolicking, as you can see.
We already told the neighbors that maybe not our days, but our months are numbered over here in our fantastic but increasingly crowded abode.
They said they were sorry. I am sure they won't miss the drumming session at the kitchen, the performance space around here. Those kitchen utensils are good for some major decibels. Karl even broke a wooden spoon, which is even harder than breaking a drumstick. I think we should prepare ourselves mentally for some very annoying pop music choices come puberty. The next highlight of the day was of course the return of dad with Opa Paul in tow. They sure love their grandpa those two. Heavy competition for his attention, Karl definitely at the verbal advantage, which Henri counters with pouts, fluttering eyelashes and coy smiles. So far it's a tie. 
It was right away off to the playground. First glimpse of spring, so there was a lot of running around and climbing and stuff.
Henri is about to master the hanging pirate's bridge, which made him very proud. Dinner with Opa and his spouse "Ria" followed, plus drinks with my stepsister and her new boyfriend the Swiss seismologist, who stopped by (first time meeting your new girl's folks and there's a an army of patchwork family members including two rowdy boys who try to recruit you for wrestling matches and Gruffalo readings? That young man sure stood his ground poised).
Plans for tomorrow - none. Which sounds just perfect.
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