Ken ordered a new GPS from Garmin last week. We've been getting it in parts--first the stand that holds it on the dashboard, then the case. He's been waiting anxiously for the delivery guy to come by with the actual GPS.
A few minutes ago he heard a quiet noise near our front door and raced to open it. Sure enough, it was a delivery person with the Garmin. He's like a kid at Christmas: tore it open right away, looked it over, and now he's gone. I'm sure he's installing it in the car as I type this.
This behavior comes as no surprise to his mom, of course.
Oh, and we went to Target this morning. Ken was all over the wide-screen HDTVs, and I squee'd over the baby clothes and even the (bisphenol-free plastic) bottles. We managed to control ourselves and get the toothbrush heads and scrubbing sponges we needed.
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