So I'll fill you in.
First of all, did you know that the phrase "baby smooth" doesn't refer to the quality of a baby's skin? See, I thought babies were just incredibly well moisturized. But "baby smooth" refers to the baby's hairlessness. Did you know that? Well, of course you did.
Apparently, I'm the only person on the face of the earth who had never noticed how hairless the average baby was until I gave birth to one. And then I'm like, woah! Check it out! Little dude is smooth!
Internet, I certainly hope you're smarter than I am.
Oh, and I should tell you something else. Driving a car? Is fun. Too bad I only realized this when I was 35.
Here's another little tidbit for you: I'm Neil's new internet crush.
OK, he doesn't realize it himself, but then, what man does? I mean, are we pretty much agreed that men tend to be a wee bit clueless when it comes to understanding their own emotions? OK, then.
I'm not saying the guy is a s-t-a-l-k-e-r or anything like that, but he has commented over here twice this week, and he's following me on Twitter, Facebook, and Plurk. If that's not a crush, I'd like to know what is.
I really hate to think about his disappointment when he discovers I'm married.
Of course, I might not be married much longer. Sure, it's been twenty years, and habits like sleeping in the same bed for decades can be difficult to break, but what marriage can stand up to the strain of putting together the faux cherry "some assembly required" media stand with the two matching cupboards from the Home Decorators catalog?
My husband decided to try to put together the media stand--the thing we're going to put our flat screen TV on--except (and take note of this; it's important) we don't actually own a flat screen TV yet. So there's this huge half-assembled piece of furniture with a single stated function--that it can't do--taking up valuable space in the middle of the living room.
And of course this was the day the housecleaners came. Everything was lovely. And now it looks like an explosion in a particle board factory.
And that is why, tomorrow morning, instead of a flat screen TV on the media stand, my husband will find a letter from my lawyer. Demanding custody of the kids and the flat screen TV (when we get it.)