This past weekend marked the introduction of Mr. Baby to his paternal grandfather and namesake. Grandpa H drove all the way down from the Northland for a quick visit, making various familial and historical stops along the way. He's an extremely unobtrusive houseguest, so much so that he refuses to even stay at our house, but we tried to make him feel as welcome as we could. He spent most of the visit fighting off aerial attacks from Miss M, although they reportedly had a very pleasant afternoon together at the Pink Palace, marveling at the wonders of parabolic acoustics and really, really big crystals.
I always enjoy having H around, and we were lucky to have the chance to show him off to our friends as well. I wasn't sure exactly how he'd handle being thrown into a crowd of young parents, but he reinforced my belief that he can get along with just about anyone. He's so deferential and diplomatic in social settings that I want to put a big sign above his head that says, "I've been to all seven continents! Ask me stuff!"
He took his leave of us at about 8:00 this evening, not wanting to interfere with the school night bedtime routine even though it meant returning to his barely functional hotel. Of course, by that time, we had little to offer but two screaming children and a broken air conditioner*, so perhaps a fifteen minute wait to share an elevator with half a dozen Elvis impersonators didn't seem so bad.
*Did I mention the broken air conditioner? Because our air conditioner? Is broken. And the temperature? Is record-setting. At 10:20 pm, it's currently 84 degrees with 54% humidity. No, no, not outside. In our living room. And tomorrow's forecasted high? 107, baby.