Eleven.
You can {almost} count that on your fingers.
This guy...oh this little guy...is cutting his one-year molars.
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| Nate...poppin' collars ever since he can remember. |
It seems to me that the phrase "one-year molars" should really be a four letter word. A bad word. A really bad word...for babies. No amount of amber necklace, ibuprofen or whiskey could make that madness feel better.
Kidding. He prefers bourbon.
Do you know what sleep deprivation does to me?
It makes me coo coo for cocoa puffs.
In other news...Reese Ann went potty alongside a country road today for the first time because she couldn't wait until we got home. She thought it was great. I think it might become a "thing."
...which is why I am now in the market for one of these:
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| Courtesy of Buzzfeed |
For $40.00, you too, can potty in the middle of nowhere. It holds up to 500 pounds so it can be used by anyone in the family.
Hold up...500 pounds? {Get out of my head, mental image.}
Just don't leave it installed while you are in Wal-Mart or the school pick-up line because you don't want just anyone using your Off-Road Commode.
And if you don't know, now you know.
Good Night World. I'm going to sleep....hopefully for longer than eleven minutes.
Ohhh hilarious!!! I read this over my morning coffee!! You are a natural!!
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