I haven't looked in the mirror yet this morning, but I suspect I resemble a squashed heel of bread.

My boy is gearing up for another growth spurt or something that requires him to grumble and gnash his bare gums at the breast all night long.  My girl likes to wake up early and aid in my nostalgia for things urban by playing music loud enough that the bass reverberates through the thin walls of our little house. 

We went to our town's little street fair this weekend.  We didn't run into anyone we know.  What the heck?  If I am going to live in something that bills itself as a small town, I want to be able to run into people I know at the local street fair.  Weirdo dog lovers were out in full force though.  If those Baby Bjorn type carriers aren't good for babies' hips, what do they do to the hips of small inbred dogs?  Slightly more sensible weirdo dog lovers push their little doggie-ums in faux Burberry print strollers.  WTF people?  They are dogs!  As Ranger Sandy would say, "A dog gots legs!"

I would say more but the boy is awake.  Not a moment too soon, I say, for after the beating they took last night, these torpedo tits are loaded.

Comments

[Ginge]

So wish I had read this earlier in the day! As it is, it will just have to help keep that smile on my face this evening...

Here's to a good nights rest tonight.

Small towns are cool, until you have dirt...then not so much :)