My child ate your homework

Xan and I love to go food shopping. OK, maybe Xan doesn't really care for it (at least until I give him a can to play with), but it's a lot of fun for me. Not only do I get stopped all the time and people tell me how cute he is, but it's also something to do to amuse him and get something useful done at the same time.

Today we went to Trader Joe's first, as usual. At the checkout, I gave him the shopping list. He quite happily was using it to bang himself and everything around him and I was loathe to take it away. Since he wasn't putting it in his mouth, I left it with him while we drove back to the Shopper's Food Warehouse by our home.

When I opened the back door of the car, this is what I found being held by an extremely happy little boy:


Luckily, I could still read everything on here. I figure at least he's getting some fiber.

This happens immedaitely before I am to receive the first major stacks of papers from students this semester -- and, indeed, for the first time since becoming a dad. Suddenly, I am imagining the state I may have to return some papers in as he gets a little older. "By any chance, does anyone recognize this paper before the name was chewed off?"