mom, who that guy be?

One of the high lights of our trip home was getting to see my brother, Sam, come home from his mission to Panama. 

 The man on the left, with the tiny fox head, was how we prepared ourselves for Sam's imminent return. We dressed up a mannequin and stuck a stuffed fox through the neck and proceded to hid it around the house. It's maiden voyage was in my parents bathroom. I thought I would possibly make Hannah wet her bed when I put it on her nightstand so it was looking down on her as she slept on her top bunk. Unbeknownst to me, she suffers from some kind of sleep spasms and she knocked it over in the night. 

Finally the day came and we dutifully made various signs. E spent hours working on this--extremely satisfied that she was allowed to use permenant markers (perhaps a bit high from the fumes..."

His flight was late, E was excited (and high on markers) and spent the time running laps in the "check in" line. Unfortunately, this is her normal reaction to airports. Eventually she burns of her energy and crashes. (Usually not until after she's watched almost all the kids movies and made enemies of all the passengers within three rows of us.)

When he finally got to baggage claim, E was ecstatic. She ran around hugging everyone, stranger or friend, and yelling, "Sam's home!"

 She then proceeded to photo bomb at every opportunity. 

 On the drive home, Sam mentioned how impressed he was that she remembered him since he had left when she was only one. 

I smiled and nodded. 

The next morning at breakfast she whispered to me, "Mom, who that guy be?"