The first I never wanted to happen

Having a baby is full of firsts. Most firsts are joyous occasions.

First smile. First tooth. First steps.

This first was not. I've been dreading it since before Finley was born. Watch and see.

THE KID LOVES KETCHUP. I should have known this day would come. Did you see it? He dipped the fry in over and over. Like it was a special ketchup spoon.

(I edited both videos to shorter versions where I don't seem so whiny, but I guess I don't know what I am doing... so you get the UNCUT VERSION!!! YEAH!!! Sorry they are long and boring.)

If you know me well or have eaten with me often, you know that I can't handle ketchup. Or tomatoes. Or any tomato product (with the exception of Spaghettios--don't ask why, those are just the rules.) It all goes back to a Girl Scout overnight to the zoo involving bats, blood and a story about lax quality control at tomato processing plants... and rats. My poor third grade brain couldn't handle it. And now, older and wiser, I still equate ketchup with blood.

And now I have a kid who is going to have it all over his face and fingers and I'm going to have to clean it up.

Ugh.