Attack of The -A(i)neys

Dear Laney,

We went to the last Alberton Farmer's Market of the season last night. The cool thing about Alberton is that - for such a small town - there's a decent-sized population here of interesting, well-educated people in their 30s who have chosen this particular community as the place they want to settle down, have kids, drink homemade beer, and fly fish. Or hunt elk. Or keep bees. Or whittle chopsticks out of sustainable pine for eating their locavore bison stir-fry.

Anyway, all of these pioneers have amazing kids, and they all came to the farmer's market last night. You couldn't swing an organic beet without hitting a young'un.

Of course, there were some of our favorite usual suspects:

...but I will remember this farmer's market as "When Laney Met Rainey."You and Rainey had been to some of the same social events before, but never really interacted, except that one time at The Other Brooke's baby shower a few years ago, when Rainey stepped on your head. 

You guys held hands and ran off to play on the big tires, where your dad says he overhead you saying, "We don't need our moms for this," and Rainey agreed, "We don't need our moms at all." Your dad suggested that the two of you just get an apartment together in town, and you guys nodded like it would be the next logical step in your ten-minutes-old, mom-free friendship. 

Rainey has a doll named Alice. Rainey likes to hurl Alice into the air and watch her crash to the ground. "Woo-wee, she's tough on that doll," I thought to myself...

...and then I came home and found this scene in our refrigerator:

I was reminded of the Bible verse that goes, "Judge not, lest ye find a frozen Dora in your fridge."

Love,

Mom