In the blur of festivities that make up Easter, Lily and I followed the bunny trail to a park beside the hospital where she was born to bounce in an inflatable jungle gym, ride a miniature train, meet Ronald McDonald (though he didn't get too close -- remember this?), and pet the animals. She petted each of them -- even a rooster! -- but seemed particularly perplexed by the sheep's wool. I was pleased that, despite visiting a farm earlier this week and seeing no animals, we were able to figuratively rub noses with some friend barnyard pals.
I was also pleased that Lily appeared to be the only little girl who was not a bow head. The Urban Dictionary defines bow head as "woman who wears a bow in her hair, who often has an annoyingly perky personality and may be overly interested in things like her sorority." My definition is a bit looser: any girl whose mom thinks it's okay to stick on a giant bow on her head just because she ended up conceiving a daughter. It's a Southern thing. And I'm very not into it.
Lucky for us, these guys didn't care either way.