The Carson Family. {Seattle}

The day that I hung out with the Carsons was a Barry White kind of day. Baby Clara woke up from her nap and was immediately ready for a bowl of pureed carrots and some old school R & B.  She sat in her highchair and dangled her bare feet in the air and bounced to a little bit of can’t get enough of your love baby. At one point in the afternoon we went outside into the grey Seattle clouds. The family walked the dog, the baby taught the dog to roll over and then they all stood together underneath a canopy of birch trees. When we got back to the house, Clara took a bath and made soap sculptures that resembled the Eifel Tower. I could have stayed with the Carson family all day, but sadly, our time came to an end and we had to say goodbye. As I drove away from them and all their sweetness, I found an old scratched up barry white cd in my glovebox. I dusted it off, put it in and turned it up loud. And then suddenly, the clouds parted and the sun came out of hiding and I put the windows down and shoulder-rolled my way home to never gonna give you up. And the streets of the emerald city never looked brighter.

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