Peace accord brokered

I think, perhaps, it says something about Massachusetts that the roads were clogged on Friday as everyone tried to flee to New Hampshire and Maine. Not even sub-zero temperatures in Maine could keep away the Massholes. But we made it eventually, and all was good.

Paxton, always interested in fellow little people, was introduced to Marcus (age 2). It had already been a big day for Paxton. He'd explored a hotel in Portland, almost gotten blown away outside a Best Buy (which would at least have spared him from having to be inside a Best Buy, almost got blown away outside two L.L. Bean outlets (where I was unsuccessful in replacing my 9-year-old winter coat -- they take exchanges forever, but they didn't have any winter coats in my size I liked), and he met an affectionate Doberman named Reese (like the PB cup) (unfortunately, not pictured)

But Marcus seemed most interesting. Paxton immediately went in for the hair. That's his standard move. He likes shiny things, too, like necklaces and earrings, but Marcus didn't have those things, so it was all about the hair.

Marcus didn't seem to mind too much, though, which was cool. He even offered to share his juice with Paxton.

By the end of dinner (turkey for us, bananas for Paxton), everyone under four feet tall got into his pajamas, and Paxton just wanted to hug Marcus before he headed home (Marcus wasn't driving, of course, not after all that juice).