CUTEST EFFING BABY IN CANADA.
This baby has the biggest happiest smile you've EVER seen (just like Papa J's) and the biggest brownest eyes of ALL time (just like Mama M's).
When I started walking up the stairs into the living room, Baby K leaned out of Mama arms with that big smile spread across his face and reached out for me. I kid you not, that child has NO idea who I am. Not a damn clue. And yet he was so excited to see me. "Oh! Somebody new! Gimme!" It was PRECIOUS.
We played with Baby K on the floor, watching him try to walk and hearing all about how he's the nicest, most pleasant baby that has ever graced Gaga's green earth.
So then I put him in my purse and took him home.
Ok, not quite, but almost. I did insist that I be allowed to babysit. Well, I demanded it. Whatever.
Hubby agrees that the cuteness of Baby K is completely infectious, and I don't think he was even particularly opposed to me kidnapping the little guy. But he swears he's not ready for kids yet. And it couldn't hurt to get my own shit together first, too.
So fine. We're waiting. And in the meantime I plan to steal and/or babysit all my friends' babies.
Hubby, on the other hand, has a different plan. He wants a dog, dammit. He talks about it all the time. Problem is, I'm not sure he really understands how much work is involved with a dog, nor does he appreciate how much I friggin hate them.
But today Hubby spent some more time with Baby K, and guess what? He admits that a baby might be just as good (if not better) than a dog. He says he just needs a little minion - something to mold, influence, train. Something to teach tricks to and play with.
And then, immediately after we talked about having a baby and being excellent parents, our fat cat Patches started eating our dumb cat Tuxedo's food and Hubby proceeded to shout at the top of his man-voice lungs:
"PATCH!!! PATCH!!! PAAAAATCH!!!!!!"
And then he banged on the coffee table with the palm of his hand three times.
BANG. BANG BANG!
And then, and I am not exaggerating here, he shouted:
"I WILL BEAT YOU!"
And then he stood up and started to march over to Patches with that murderous stomp and evil glare mean old men have when they want to intimidate a child who is playing on their front lawn.
At least Patches stopped eating Tux's food. And at least I know my babies will be