Matt brought home $60 worth of fireworks last night and put on a show for baby and me. He made me wrap two heavy blankets around my waist so to not deafen Junior; I sat on the front porch, hot, and getting eaten by mosquitos, and watched his display of patriotism. A couple of the firecrackers (Swarm of Killer Bees, to be exact), made me jump, making baby jump too. We felt so guilty. Matt, California boy, still can't get over the fact that these things are legal, that he can aim a bottle rocket right at Paulette's house across the street and not go to jail. I'll soon have two little kids. : )
I'm learning You Are My Sunshine on banjo, we're gearing up for the "Week of Baby Showers," and we're making incredible plans for our future. The recent past seems like a lifetime ago. I now cut coupons for Huggies.
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