It's late. The big story tonight is of course that Reid managed to do so much damage to this sweatshirt that it may be retired. It had a great run. A friend bought it for Reid and for a short time it was his most highly-prized piece of semi-outerware. It was Polo. Lacking the ability to speak, Reid couldn't say it, but I sensed that he felt very chic when he was wearing it. However, as all clothing of toddlers goes, so goes the sweatshirt. The banana Reid is eating in the shot at the right is the last straw. My forensic recreation of the sweatshirt's day seems to include some kind of chocolate sauce or frosting, red marker, soup or possibly gravy, something I hope is milk, some juice and a lot of drool. I think the Spray and Wash might be outmatched. The shirt featured such a dazzling array of tastes and experiences from his day that, when I took it off him, Reid spread it neatly on the couch and fell into a reverie about the places that sweatshirt had taken him. Good times.