Or, let me rephrase. I SHOULD have fed her the pie, but dressed her in some loose, shapeless pants. Or a leotard. Or the sweats I still have from college. Basically, what I wish I was wearing. #TBT #HappyThanksgiving
Dear Baby: Sorry but you're mistaken. Down my shirt between the boobs that fed you is not an ok place to throw up. #whenwillitstop
Dear Baby: Sorry, my boobs are not, in fact, balls of dough you are supposed to be prepping for the oven. #ouch
Dear Baby: Sorry as soon as daddy got home I booked it into my room to "reply to a few emails" (watch celebrity lip sync battles).
Dear Toddler (and Baby): Sorry daddy thought it was appropriate to let you snuggle up on the couch for a program called "Hitler's Suicide Ship."
Thanks, every store, for making my kid obsess about Santa's arrival while still grappling with the "what's a scarecrow" question.
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© Dear Baby XO 2014-2015 All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.
Copyright © Dear Baby XO 2014-2016 All Rights Reserved.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from
this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.