I keep waiting for some mythical inspiration, but I think I’m setting the bar too high. Maybe you’re satisfied to stop by and see crappy phone pictures of my giant-headed offspring shoving oranges into his gob at the park.
Those aren’t just any oranges, by the way. Those are hand-selected by his loving great-grandparents, bigger-than-your-head (but not his) oranges from the Valley and he is smitten. Never again will he be satisfied with a paltry little clementine. Now, he says “I wanna orange. A BIG ONE.” and makes this huge O with his mouth because he is overwhelmed at the heft of them.
Oh, and the suckitude factor upstairs has diminished exponentially so YAY for that.