Is My Son Rockwell?

Ever get that feeling that someone is always watching you? Ok, hey, by the way, in our previous lives, we would be aghast if someone used pre-made, jarred spaghetti sauce in anything. If it makes you feel any better, the morning of this same day, I made the boy pancakes from scratch (again). So we're not completely screwing him up, right? Yeesh, now that I think about it, how do you counter-balance pre-made, jarred sauce? Is there a ceremony we can do to cleanse Max's aura? Do I hand pick the Morels? Do I make the pasta like back when Mama and Dada were dating and they still loved each other?

Can we purify the boy before his brother arrives? It's probably too late.