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We eat children


Not all children. Just Grade A children named Sawyer. We are in St. Louis, which is not the hellish humid inferno the news tried to make it out to be. This trip allows us to see Mom and Dad Niehaus (and their new beautiful house), all three of Jeff's living grandparents and a small army of aunts, uncles and cousins. But today was a mostly Sawyer and Good Paul day. Sawyer obligingly welcomed us with kisses as she can always be counted on to do.


We headed over to Poco Irv's apartment, which is in a retirement community that is basically a cruise ship set down in the Missouri countryside. If you live there you might have time, between the games, parties, cocktails and several course meals, to welcome your great grand daughter and take her swimming in your pool with a fountain.
Sawyer managed to keep her daddy, poco and uncle amused for the better part of an hour before dinner with her expert swimming tricks. She really is getting there is the swimming department. She's a natural. (She will not have to take swimming lessons at thirty so her husband will let her snorkel, unlike someone we know…)Because Jeff is a native Midwesterner, he had really short hair for the first thirty years of his life. Now that he has broken out to California he has had to grow out his hair and start wearing Birks so he wouldn't look like such a freak out there on the beach. The Midwest will never forgive him for this betrayal. Behold him in full follicular glory at Steak N Shake:


Dinner was a St. Louis classic: large stacks of onion rings, salads that were more meat than lettuce, and very large flat pizzas. Yummy!

 

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