Our little Emerson Kate is basically a toddler now. At 17 months (yeah, I counted on my fingers and toes), she’s already graduated to a booster seat. Not sure when that’s a normal thing to do, really. We’ve always just rolled with the punches. But that girl sits still-ish in a booster seat, which is more still-ish than any other time. Ever.
To date, we’ve eaten at maybe 4 different restaurants on multiple occasions each and no real incident with the booster seat. Well, no incidents if you don’t count Dad’s fear of restaurant floors when he’s having to scrape his fingers along to up the colored pencils from the grimy, sludge-soaked, shoe goo covered, bacteria infested stained concrete. Besides that.
