Up in Vail this past weekend, we're in shops because I'm searching for a hat to keep the sun off of my dome. This one shop has a bin of ski hats for cheap and Griffin's trying them on. He grabs one, pulls it onto his head, and says, "I like this one, Daddy."

"Let's see," I tell him, and with his knit hat pulled over his surfer hair, he turns to me, strikes a rapper pose, and says simply, "Yo."

Needless to say, we bought him the hat.