The boy takes after his mother, I guess. He is quickly developing a passion for appreciating a good french fry.
I'm going to admit this here, although I'm not overly proud of it (sigh). On Tuesday Dan and I took him to Raising Cane's, which is a chicken strips and fries place. He merely walked in the door, saw the cashier's counter and happily chirped "whys!". Then he had fries for lunch, with a tiny side of chicken.
He so thoroughly enjoyed this meal, that at one point he blissfully leaned waaaay back in his high chair, so that he was staring at the ceiling, and carefully brought a fry dipped in ketchup up in the air, and then down to his face. All he needed to complete the picture was someone fanning him with a palm frond.
I think we've got a future addict.
(He's ignoring his hot dog and reaching for more fries, I'm willing to bet.)