I killed it. I loved it and I killed it.
I don’t even know what happened so I’m going to re-trace my steps in an attempt to figure out how it all went wrong for poor Basil here.
It was a beautiful sunny day. I became convinced spring was upon us so I swaddled up the baby and went out on an adventure… to Wal-mart. This is a reoccurring trope in my life. It seems that all things that happen to me begin, end or somehow involve a trip to Wal-mart. This is a scary realization.
My life in a nutshell:
I have been sitting on the couch for a half hour now with my left boob hanging out of my shirt. Why? Because if I put it away, the baby will wake up and scream at me. He’s a tyrant.
So my new kid has cradle cap. You know, that yellowish, crusty stuff some unfortunate babies get and that WebMD says is completely normal? Well, if you’ve never seen it, it’s gross. It embarrasses me. I feel like I should mumble apologies to people who tell me he’s cute. “Yeah, if you can look past the horrible, flaky scales on his forehead, I GUESS…” Continue reading