Audball = Party Girl

So in traveling to the world's most un-baby-friendly city we learned our little Audball is quite a trooper. She happily tolerated skipped naps, late dinners, and coos of admiration by well-intentioned southern ladies who ran nice shops but talked awfully funny and loud and put their faces a little too close for comfort. She also learned to sleep in her stroller while marching bands played and police sirens blared just a few feet away. (Seriously.)

We were very impressed and proud of our baby girl, but not as proud as we were of Mr. Anderson's brother, who graduated from Tulane's law school after a lot of blood, sweat and tears. Well done, M!

As it goes, my most fond memory of New Orleans (aside from the beignets at Cafe Du Monde) will be one particular moment we had on Bourbon Street. (BTW - Never did I imagine that the first time I'd take in the Bourbon Street scene I'd be accompanied by my BABY, but here goes...)

After dinner our family poured out of the restaurant directly onto Bourbon St to find it in full party mode. The oddity of pushing a baby in a stroller while surrounded by girls going wild for beads was pretty funny to everyone so the hubby and I agreed to take a picture in front of the street sign to commemorate the event.Just seconds after this picture was taken a guy on a balcony across from us shouted "Hey you. I know you're breastfeeding! Show your t*ts!"

Without even thinking about it, I whipped out the double bird. It was a classy moment for all involved but I couldn't help myself. Every time I tell the story now it cracks me up a little bit more. As my friend Deborah pointed out, that's one for the baby book.