Monday, July 16, 2012

Like mother... son.

When people ask me if I remember anything from living in Germany, there really isn't much (remember, I was three when we moved back to the States). But one of the few memories I have is of Brötchen. Literally, "little bread" or rolls. That's all it is - but I remember the way they taste. They actually come in many different varieties, but the bread here - all of it - just tastes so much better than at home. Maybe it's because Europe doesn't embrace genetically modified foods the same way we do. Maybe it's because everything is baked fresh each day. But man, oh man, is it phenomenal. I'm going to be spoiled when I get back home. 

And hey, it was fun to share one of my very first memories with my handsome little man! (By the way, please don't judge our crazy combination of plaids here. I packed for much warmer weather than we've been having, and not having a dryer is making the daily laundry shuffle a little interesting. I do what I can, and that includes embracing the clash when necessary. The shirt under the jacket matches the shorts - I promise!)


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