The Master

I'm certain that I've never seen a child as good at pouting as Gabriel.

Lips perfectly puffed out, slumped shoulders, crocodile tears squeezing out the corner of his deep brown eyes.

He's the master.

Grandparents: Advert your eyes.

He's even adorable when he's crying about not being able to throw rocks at cars.  The unfairness of it all.

Don't worry though.  He turns it off just as fast as he turns it on.

This child.  He'll be the end of me.