Saturday, August 29, 2009
I Am . . .
. . . not. I'd just like to take a moment and express my appreciation for the fact that I have not been bombarded by questions. I've had two friends who got married around the same time we did who recently blogged about how sick they are of constantly being asked if they're pregnant. The only person to ask me is my dad. Of course he asks pretty much every time I see him . . . which is weird, because he certainly wasn't the parental unit involved in this recurring scenario:
Happy-ish family wandering the aisles at Walmart. Walking past the baby clothes, Mother stops to look at a fancy baby dress and says, "Oh this would look so cute on one of my grandbabies. But I don't have any grandbabies." Mother pouts and looks pointedly at Lacey. Who is 16. And who is also tempted to reply, "Well, if you want them that badly, I do know how to get them, theoretically. Would you like me to gain some practical knowledge?"
And now I'm married, and Shay's married, and it's like she doesn't care anymore. But Dad, on the other hand . . . wait a minute, what the crap?! Holy invasion of the body switchers, Batman! On the plus side, I happen to know for a fact (because I was on the phone with him at the time) that about an hour ago he was pulling my three(ish)-year-old twin cousins around on a shovel. And judging by their giggles, they were enjoying it. Hopefully Dad gets his fill of rugrats this month and Shayla and I will get off easy for a while. :-) At least I haven't heard anything like this yet.
Anyway, I'm not pregnant. In case you were interested. And that is all. Countdown to bets on how many people will post comments that will make it evident they didn't read after seeing the picture begins . . . now!
P. ost S. cript
Luke and I are hoping any and all daughters we have are like this cutie.