Man vs Wild

I just overhead Darling Husband tell Baby Boy that "seals are fish."

This makes me second guess every "nature walk" they have ever taken together.

Eddie Says What?

We were at a dinner party last night. The topic of conversation for 99% of the night was, "When are you going to have another baby?"

My answers started innocently,"Whenever I can find a drug strong enough for Darling Husband, hahaha."

After a few glass of wine, "Geeeeeeerl, I am on my back with my legs in the air waiting for the stork to notice! guffawsnorthonk."

Certainly, DH was nowhere near these conversations as talking about more kids is as appealing to him as watching the debt counter tick up.

Toward the end of the night, a good friend of DH's, as well as a father to two gorgeous girls, was saying how much we neeeeeed to have a daughter.

"Well, you tell him then," I said. "I swore I wouldn't bring it up again until November."

I watched Ed talk seriously to DH, as DH (surprisingly) nodded to whatever his friend said.

Later I approached Ed and he gave me a big high-five. "He'sssssss in!!"

"Wow, I cannot believe that. What did you say?"

"Just that now is the best time to be looking for retirement homes and the Bahamas is the place so he is totally in to buying a house there! High five!"

I am not sure how "another baby" turned into a "beach house" but I feel I may be onto some leveraging points.

New Shoes...or Are They?

I knew there was a reason Baby Boy had agreed to the first pair of shoes I had picked out for him so quickly.

They have been everywhere except on his feet.

The Case of the Very Hairy Back

After a long day at the beach, I slathered Baby Boy down in some coconut oil to moisturize his skin.

A little while later he ran by me looking like he had aged 35 years.

"Get back here!" I said with a tone of confusion.

He whole upper body was covered in thick hair.

Gag.

Note to self: If you are going to put an oily substance all over your naked child, make sure you vacuum the dog hair up before he rolls all over the rug.

Do they make an anti-Rogaine?

The Marketing Genius

We live in the country. This means boys, at a young age, get some sort of ride atop motorized vehicle with which they rip up their mother's flowers gardens and make their dad's proud.

Baby Boy got a tractor last summer, which I imagined would last him until he got a driver's license. Well, the damn thing lost its Reverse gear and the now bare tires unapologetically spin on the pavement unable to get traction.

My favorite noise, followed by, "MAMA, I'M 'TUCK!!!"

The older boy across the street has a much beefier ATV. It is quite the envy of the neighborhood, and since my son is the only other boy on the street, you do the math.

The ATV appeared at the end of their driveway yesterday with an optimistic "For Sale $350.00" sign on it.

About every ten minutes the price either drops or it inches closer to the top of our driveway.

It is one of the few times I am glad Baby Boy can't read.

Really Sexy T-Shirts

Last night, Darling Husband's work hosted a booth at a community festival. There was a photo booth with costumes, frisbees and glow-in-the-dark jewelry. We were ready to rock.

I put on a super cute outfit: a safari-inspired shirt with short-shorts which to wear I have suffered through massive bouts of up-and-down the driveway lunge sessions. My bucket list for the summer was to wear those. The fact that I could check that off the list before Labor Day made the whole summer worthwhile.

When I got there, DH threw a huge, bright blue tee-shirt at me.

"Put that on," he instructed.

His logo blared from about 10-yards of fabric.

That is about as bad as asking me to slap a name tag on a cashmere sweater.

"I am not wearing that." I tossed it back to him.

The look he gave me made it clear that, yes, in fact, I was.

So, this damn thing (a Men's Medium) not only made me look 60-pounds heavier but hung to my knees. Since my shorts ended about a foot earlier, you do the math.

My options were to tuck the excess 5-yards into the shorts giving me an oh-so-flattering pregnant-with-a-tire look OR to let it hang down thus inciting a fantasy that I was wearing nothing under the shirt.

I went with Option B. I would like to think the line of old men at out booth was a coincidence, but maybe it was just for the frisbees.

We Get Blonde with a Little Help from Our Friends

Baby Boy has become quite curious lately as to why things are the way that they are.

To wit: "Why is it windy?" "Why does that tickle?" "Why does Daddy's tummy looks like it has a baby in it?"

Today he was asking why people are different colors.

"Well, that's the way god made us. Everyone is different, like you have green eyes and daddy has brown eyes."

He thought about this.

I asked, "So who gave you your pretty green eyes?"

"God."

"Who gave daddy his shiny brown eyes?"

"God."

"Who gave Mommy her blonde hair?"

"Lisa!!!" he screamed the name of my stylist with glee.

Even god needs help sometimes.