This afternoon Mom went with me to the Southern Nevada Health Department downtone to get Remy's birth certificate. We are flying out early Sunday morning and since he is going to be riding free I wanted to have it in case someone said "this handsome young man couldn't possibly be under two years old!" No one questioned us the first four times we flew with him, but that was when he still fit neatly under a blanket like a little bundle from heaven. Now he will be rolling into the airport with long arms, long legs, and, when he wants to, a fierce stare.
So yeah, proof will be at hand. Check.