So, I am fully aware that more than a fair share of photos taken in this 2014 are of the girls in the bed, but this is not fiction, and I'm merely depicting what goes on around here. It's not my fault I got one feeling under the weather and another bulging from the guts, two conditions that apparently keep you bedridden. But joyfully bedridden. They don't seem to be down in the dumps. Just down.
These two photos were taken hours apart.
The day went on as planned tho. Laura went to work for the last time (for some time), and I diddled around the house while catching some playoff games in the background. Both my teams lost. And Yuula, she slept. For a good eight hours. And when she woke, her fever had broken, and it seemed like there was a great alignment of the stars, as would be well and a great celebration would be had once the mother returned home, shedding her retail skins and ready to embrace the family and the home and the remainder of her gestational epoch, and that all sorts of grandiosity was in our wake.
Instead...
...she came home, got in bed and Yuula stuck her foot in her face.
Bring on the madness.
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