oooooooo! dis!

Last night was a bad night.

That is an exaggeration.

Last night featured a bad 40 minutes of inconsolable wailing. I tried every trick, every hold, everything. Finally, I gave him a bottle, one ounce of which he eagerly accepted and then expelled with equal enthusiasm. Now I understand "itchy with baby vomit."

He kept this up until Grandma Suzie came out wearing a shiny blue jumper with red cape and an "S" emblazoned on the front and asked if she could help. I handed him to her and he shut right up. Didn't hear from him again the rest of the night.

Made me feel this big, let me tell you. He cut me so low, I'm playin' handball off the curb. This morning, I had to crawl up a ladder just to put on my shoes.

brat

We'll be reviewing this post when he asks for . . . well. . . anything.