Phew. Long day. Laura dragged herself back to that place that pays our health insurance and I became Mr. Mom again. It's different this time around tho. I don't know why but my old routine did not work at all. We used to love drinking out of the bottle on the couch, I even had a surefire pillow configuration setup. But it was all for naught. She's moved on to the rocking chair. I think because it has a better view of the tv. I tried to make her choose between eating and Law & Order and laughed at me. Literally. And she's become a slob. Milk everywhere. There's a mixture of drool and breastmilk nestled in the deep v-neck of my chest hair. It matches the sour cream in my beard (we had pierogies). That's another new development, her new found grasping powers, mainly into the thick of my facial hair with the motion like she's dowshifting on the Pocono Downs. It takes my all not to shriek in her face. She laughs during this too.
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