Ah, my brother. Always the sophisticate, always so intelligent. Though I think his French intellectual phase here was a little hard on my parents. Constantly babbling about Sartre and the Existentialists in his baby French. Delineating the points of his baby manifesto on his chubby little baby fingers.
Fortunately, sometime after this picture was taken someone showed him a sports car and French existentialism went out the window.
Don't forget to check out my giveaway in my first April 13th post! (That is, not the Quinn and Dora one.)