Barefoot summertime breakfast

Not many things inspire optimistic swells of goodwill for me quite like photos of the Obama girls. Getting an early start today (despite my aforementioned distaste for mornings) thanks to the installation of hardwood floors in the apartment above us, I settled in with the paper and breakfast and saw this:

A closer look... Michelle Obama entering the car where her girls were waiting after a meeting with the Pope:


This photo reminds of a time when "dressing up" meant giving in and finally putting shoes on, those weeks in the dead of the summer that seemed to stretch out like a lifetime. There were creeks to play and games to devise and, okay fine, books to read in the shade (nerd!). There are a thousand reasons why the Obama girls make me proud to be living in the White House, but this photo sums up the simplest sentiment in the best of ways - they're just kids being kids. Sure, they're in Ghana while their parents meet the Pope, and sure, there probably aren't any local creeks that they're allowed to go splash around in, but they're kids in the dead of summer all the same. And like we were, they're barefoot.

Feeling the July laze even as adults, we weren't up for any real cooking this morning, so I made us my standard weekday breakfast - one that I usually assemble in my office kitchen. Trevor had never had it before, and I think he was a fan - I barely got this photo taken before it was all scarfed down.

Whole grain English muffins with cashew butter and sliced bananas

Time to start our weekend... I wonder what kind of barefoot opportunities exist in Dallas?