Today a baby went out of the house dressed like an Olsen twin yet again. Perhaps we will get better at matching when someone stops soiling various parts of her outfit so frequently. Until then, we remain “boho.” Or around the house, “naked and easily hosed down.”
In another two years, I expect to be able to discuss things that do not relate to a baby. That’s not totally true. If you’d like to discuss consolidating student loans or car insurance discounts, I’m your huckleberry. Would you like to talk about how my wretched, wretched condo won’t sell for what I paid for it? Also, I had a dream that I bought a bunch of bananas housing a tarantula.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, a baby is teething, so I have to put some whiskey on my gums.