25 Weeks: Rutabaga

I’m wondering what a rutabaga even looks like?  I recently had to Google “quince” as I also didn’t have a clear mental image of this mysterious fruit.  Frankly I think lemon-pear might be a better name, not unlike my favorite salad fruit, the pear-apple.  Now that I’ve Googled rutabaga, my life could be in significant danger if forced to identify the differences between a rutabaga and a turnip, at gunpoint.

So, what’s new with Cillo this week?  He/she is getting busier.  Lots of what I would describe as thumping, always on the right side.

Jake has also noticed the rutabaga in my tummy.  He has an irresistable urge to lift up my shirt and make loud, obnoxious noises by blowing on my stomach.  The wetter, the funnier… at least in his book.  He then takes his little hand, puts it behind his dad’s neck, and pushes his dad’s face into my stomach as a sign of zerbert encouragement.  The rutabaga and I are virtually defenseless.