Mo' pho.

Mr. Spicy, also known as Jonathan, is living up to his nickname. We've been making pho two or three times a month for dinner this summer. Pho is a Vietnamese beef soup with noodles. It's a nice summer dish because it requires a lot of fresh herb garnishes, such as basil, mint and cilantro. We also squeeze in lime juice, hoisin sauce, and Vietnamese hot sauce. Chris makes his broth so spicy it turns red, while I prefer a medium spice level.

Jonathan used to eat cheese and pasta when we had pho, but our big steaming bowls intrigued him. Now that he's talking more, he's been able to ask for "Dat!" He really enjoys slurping up a foot long rice noodle. Tonight when we made pho, he made it clear he wanted what we were eating, and nothing else. So I gave him a bowl of noodles, and a little mug filled with broth. I added a drop of hoisin sauce and a spritz of lime, dropped in an ice cube to cool it, and gave him his favorite twisty Pooh straw to sip with.

He tackled the noodles first, draping them over his arms before gobbling them up. As soon as the broth was cool enough, though, he started sipping through his straw. He drained the first cup in a minute and asked for "Mo!" I brought out another mugful. Misha and Tedra dropped by for a visit and Jonathan slowed his soup intake long enough to flirt through a mouthful of noodles. After they left, however, it was back to business with the straw.

Mr. Spicy soon noticed that we were eating noodles and broth at the same time. So he carefully took a few noodles and dropped them in his mug. This created some challenges with his straw, however. He managed to get one noodle two inches up the straw before the soup stopped coming. It made a really funny noise when Mommy blew the noodle back into the mug!

Finally, dinner was winding down, and desparate measures were called for. Jonathan pointed to our bowls and said "Soup!" Chris gave him a small taste of his spicy broth. Jonathan swallowed and started coughing. He took a swig of milk and then wanted more pho! He was saying "more" and signing it at the same time. We gave him broth from my bowl, and he coughed less, but it was still quite spicy for him. He got three spoonfuls before we decided he'd had enough. Jonathan was upset because he wanted more, but he was turning a bit red with each spoonful. Mr. Spicy's going to need to get a little older before we start squirting hot sauce on his food in the quantities he'd like.

Truck is everything, and everything is truck.

Jonathan still loves trucks, by the way. You could only possibly have missed this fact if you haven't been within a five mile radius of our baby for the last month. Every time a truck passes through Jonathan's field of vision, or rumbles within hearing range, he shouts "Drut! Drut!" over and over again. He also shouts "Drut!" when there's thunder, when he sees one of his truck books, or when playing with one of his truck toys. And "truck toys" is an amazingly expandable category, it turns out. Jonathan also likes to make truck noises (Brum brum!) so we know when he's playing trucks. This week, his trucks have included the following: the stroller, our suitcase, waffle pieces on his breakfast tray, a rattle, and his bunny.

In a rare bit of non-truck related news, bedtime is a hoot these days. After months and months of reading "Goodnight Moon" and pointing out the mouse, something has finally clicked. Jonathan gets so excited to show me the mouse that he often lunges off my lap trying to reach his book. He knows exactly where the mouse is on every page, and he knows that the black and white pages have no mice. So he's constantly trying to push past those pages to get on to the next mouse. When a mouse page comes up, he turns to me and bats his eyes, turning his palms up and saying "Ooh daa!" I have to shake my head and say "I don't know where that mouse is!" Then Jonathan puts his finger on the mouse without even looking, chortling at his silly non-mouse finding mommy. I tried, at the suggestion of someone who shall remain nameless, to put my finger over the mouse and hide it. That lasted all of one second before Jonathan grabbed my thumb and pushed it out of the way.

I need to find a book with a mouse and a truck together.