There were a lot of them this summer! Fortunately, all disarmingly adorable.
First, there were the twin bundles of terror.


Then there was the cherubic F. Sweet and gentle--unless you get between her and a slab of meat or an M+M.

They do, it must be said, make life difficult sometimes. Like when they throw your camera behind the bench. Or when you want to go to a bar. Or walk anywhere. Or eat at a reasonable hour. Or sleep. But it is a testament to their cuteness and loveability that we still like them. Bring them on, I say. What could possibly go wrong?
