Although we were snowed in, we managed to make it over to my brother Brent’s house for Thanksgiving, where Margaret was subjected to intense scrutiny.
We didn’t get a picture of the worst of it.
Although there is one where Nathan is clearly trying to vault over Margaret.
Having passed, however, some sort of cousin test, Margaret was allowed to eat her Thanksgiving dinner more or less in peace. Thanksgiving dinner is absolutely made for the not entirely toothed infant.
Peas and turkey are pretty much right up her alley.
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