Yesterday the storm hit San Francisco and we were housebound. Housebound with a toddler in scary indeed,  so it was time to pull out projects and games and all sorts of things I’ve been keeping up my sleeve during the warm months when Hugo was perfectly content to waterboard himself with the garden hose and shoo flies around the yard.

Part of the afternoon was occupied with a tea party, complete with muffins and scones. I don’t think he would even know the first thing about a tea party were it not for his beloved Max and Ruby. Ruby loves herself a tea party and so does Hugo:

I know that we have been remiss in updating here, so I wanted to share Hugo’s first joke. We were playing with his play farm, and we were putting everyone to bed in the barn.

I heard Hugo say to his Little People, “Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the cows bite….”

Once he saw that his crack got a good rise out of us, he couldn’t stop himself from repeating it, ad nauseum.

Hugo and I went for our yearly trip to choose a birthday piñata. The pickings were certainly slimmer this year and I was forced to choose from a selection of poorly designed simulacra of corporate licensed characters (Spiderman, Darth Vader, Thomas, Dora, et al.) The least offensive, the red car you see above, is, I believe a Pixar Disney character. Hugo didn’t recognize it as anything other than a big red car. A big red car he refused to relinquish the entire way home.

Last year’s model was tasteful and demure in contrast.

We just arrived home from Mexico yesterday, all of us nut-brown and one of us (me) mosquito-bitten. We stayed in a resort that seemed to have been designed per the specific instructions of a focus group of 5-7 year olds. The kid’s pool was miles of water that reached Hugo’s waist, fountains, play structures, slides, wave pools, and well-positioned ice cream kiosks. I fear that Hugo has been spoilt for the San Francisco muncipal pools.

We managed to find some adventure and good food, despite the luxe resort living. A drive up the Nayarit Coast found us in a town we fell in love with, Lo de Marcos, and we’re tentatively planning a longer trip there. Shrimp, octopus and marlin were daily fare, and I think it will it will be a while before we cook seafood. We gorged on pineapples, mangos, and melons. But the highlight was definitely watching Hugo as his little head exploded with sheer fun.

The first in what we hope is a series.

Hugo, though susceptible to the occasional bout of pickiness, is a good eater and loves all types of food. He loves eating out too, and one of the best things about living in San Francisco is the dining options (why else do we pay so much to live here?). So, dear reader, if you live in the City and want to know what Hugo likes, or if you’re the occasional visitor and want to know what a 20-month-old boy with most of his teeth and weakness for cute waitresses prefers in a restaurant, read on…

Breakfast

For a sit-down place in Outer Noe, you can’t do better than Toast (Church & Day Street). We come here a lot. Sometimes Sacha and Hugo come here for a little mama-son bonding, sometimes he and I come when mama’s out of town and papa’s too lazy to make dinner. The Toast Combo is a huge breakfast and Hugo will happily liberate the sausage, pancakes, and scrambled eggs from your plate. His favorite here, however, is the fruit plate.Hugo knows how to order this, and, last time we were here, he started demanding (loudly) for “fwoot” “fwoot!”. He wasn’t trying to be rude, I think he was just happy that he knew how to ask for something (and be understood!). Hugo loves the comely young waitresses here, and they love him. Everybody’s really nice and it’s definitely kid-friendly, befitting a breakfast spot in Noe and only a block away from the Noe Rec Center. Kid-friendly is not how we would describe Pomelo, on the next block. We used to go there before Hugo came along, but this place’s refusal to get high chairs and the general sniffy attitude of some of the guys there means we haven’t been in years.

Our favorite coffee shop is Luv A Java (Dolores at 26th Street). The owners, Abraham and Ruthie, are friends of ours and they have a daughter, Alia, who is just a few months younger than Hugo. Abraham has already vowed that Hugo and Alia will wed one day. They have a great collection of books and mini Ritter Sport chocolates. Unlike the recently-closed Last Laugh Coffee, unfortunately, there is no kids area or crap for Hugo play with. Plus, a lot of people like to bring their laptops here and “work” (look at Facebook, perhaps peck at their never-to-be-published-for-a-good-reason novels, etc.) and give Hugo the occasional stink-eye.

Hugo and I are vey partial to the blueberry and pecan scones at Noe Valley Bakery (24th Street, between Noe and Castro). We take our scone to the benches next door and scarf it down, saving a few crumbs for the little black birds that gather at the foot of Hugo’s stroller, which he delightedly peppers with his leftovers.

Hugo and I have also breakfasted at Al’s Good Food Cafe (Mission at 29th Street). I’m hesitant to recommend it to everyone, however. It’s the greasiest of greasy spoons and Sacha thinks it’s kind of icky. Call it a guilty pleasure. They have a whole lot of crap on the walls andthe coffee is terrible, but the pancakes are fluffy and the prices are low.

For Dim Sum, Hugo prefers the offerings at Tong Palace (Clement at 10th Avenue)  in the Richmond. He likes noodles and siu mai, but he really loves sticky rice and can finish a satchel all on his own. They have great weekday specials ($.99 for any item). Highly recommended.

Up next, lunch and fast food…

Hugo has got most of his colors down pat. He can tell you with a decent degree of reliability what is brown, black, red, blue, orange, green, white, yellow, pink, and, get this, magenta. He just learned that one today.

He is very proud of his new found knowledge. He shows off constantly. This morning during breakfast at a local eatery, Hugo kept standing up in his high chair to exclaim the color of the shirt of everyone in the restaurant. An older man alone walked in wearing an oxford shirt. “Blue!” screamed Hugo. The waitress passed us. “Red!” hollered Hugo, pointing at her t-shirt. Each time he looked at me, waiting for the laudatory remarks. He learned magenta today after inquiring repeatedly about the pink-purple-red hue of my shirt, and has been repeating through the day. I put him down to sleep a little while ago, and after I left the room, as he began his nightly pre-sleep word dump, I heard him murmuring to himself, “magenta….Mama….magenta.”

Hugo is also percolating an interest in numbers and letters. I don’t think that he grasps the concept of what they represent, but he can tell you that S is for Sarah, M is for Mama, P is for Papa and Q is for Quinn, etc. 

I guess all that TV exposure is finally paying dividends!

Hey, are there any Cheerios eaters out there? Because Hugo fancies the Lego speed racers that are included in Cheerios boxes right now, and he would like to ask you a favor: save the cars for him!  

Really, I do. But here’s Hugo giving the thing a tire kicking.

Hugo is the only one in our household permitted to bring reading materials into the bathroom.