San Francisco in February

It seems now like it was months ago, but back in February, Ingrid and I took a weekend trip to San Francisco. The flight there was effortless, thanks to my very entertaining and increasingly inebriated seatmates who were more than happy to bounce Ingrid in their laps and make monkey noises all the way from Albuquerque to Las Vegas (of course). I was a little sad to see those ladies go, and half-wished I was joining them for the weekend. By the time the plane was in the air on its way to Oakland, Ingrid was asleep. On the way from the airport, Ingrid had her first car ride without me in the backseat next to her. There was some crying that even monster voices could not quell. Saturday I went to get my hair lopped off - afterwards a lady in the street commented that Ingrid and I had the same hair. You can judge for yourself. We did a little Pacific Heights wandering and then back to the apartment to prepare for our many many guests. Not much prep to do, since everybody brought everything. (Including many toys) We had a total of 15 people, including 6 younguns age 4 and under. At one point three little girls were running up and down the hall screaming. I'm sure the downstairs neighbors loved that. Hopefully they were enjoying a romantic Valentines Day dinner... at a restaurant far away. On Sunday I ran Ingrid a little ragged. She got back at me by crying for hours after going to bed in the evening. I now know just how sacred naptime is.