When I was about six months pregnant, I decided that it was of the utmost importance that our weed-ridden yard be cleaned out and sod be lain. I couldn't very well have a baby without grass in my yard. Don't ask me why this was so important for me, but it was. And Ernie, being the wonderful, and rather intelligent, man that he is knew that

Everyone told me it was just "nesting" and "pregnancy hormones", chuckling under their breaths. Turns out it was rather ingenious.

Bend it like Beckham

What do you get when you mix an hyperactive toddler, a hyperactive 37-year-old and a giant ball?

Why, a soccer tournament, of course.

I believe I've mentioned how much Ernie loves to torment Lily. What I haven't mentioned is that Ernie has a complete and utter inability to keep still.

Playing soccer with Lily satisfies both needs. He gets to torment her by waiting until she runs right up to the ball before kicking it away from her then laughing uproariously when she says "Heeeeeeeeeey! Stop, Daddy." He also gets to run around with her, thereby appeasing his incessant desire to stay in motion.

Lily loves playing soccer with Daddy. As soon as he comes home from work she asks "Backyard?".

She's gonna go pro and makes loads of money so she can keep me and Ernie living in the manner in which we intend to grow acustomed.

And now some extra shots for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy the Queen of Cute.