Of Donkeys and Lillies...

Have you ever had one of those days where the drive home from work is SO BAD that you actually think you'd rather be eating a heaping tablespoonful of shit than driving? You know... there are just those days where you hit every stinking red light possible. Every car that you happen to get behind maintains a strict 5-mile BELOW the speedlimit pace. Blinkers are non-existent, noone wants to let you in... it is a conspiracy against you. You get boxed into a driving HELL. Slow as a snail 76 year old granny in front of you, angry soccer mom in a Lincoln Navigator behind you, school bus to your right, an old Chevy Cavalier to your left. You're in hell and there IS NO ESCAPE. I don't think that getting out of your car at a stop light and blowing people's heads off with a shotgun is right, and I would never do it... BUT I DO UNDERSTAND.

Monday is THE DAY. Will our child be hung like a donkey like his father (muahahahahaha!) or have a fragile little lily like her mother? I can't wait to find out! CAN. NOT. WAIT.

The belly, it's a growin'. The toenails, they need a'polishin. I simply CANNOT paint them myself. The breasts... they are sore! And huge... massive... taking over the world! I think, oh yes, that I will weigh them this weekend on our food scale. Cuz seriously? I bet I could easily feed half the city with my boobs if there were some sort of food shortage. Filet min-boob! Top round of boob. Boob stew. Pineapple boob-side down cake!! Watch out Martha Stewart...