one hundred fifty seven

running out of butterfly
running out of butterfly

Mom and Rob came back to Brooklyn today.  I ran them ragged through the Botanic Gardens and through Prospect Park before searching for food.  Also somehow I got a deer tick in Brooklyn, which has to be like the parasitic equivalent of winning the lottery.

Bonus Guy Staring Doing a Wheelie:

you get it bro?
you get it bro?