I’m discovering a fashion sense in Michael that I never
would have guessed about pre-baby. I had no
idea he would get so involved in her clothing.
Some mornings we argue over what she’s going to wear. I like baby clothing that looks like tiny
versions of adult clothing. Little
yellow shrugs, green corduroy skirts with button flies, crisp dress
shirts. Michael likes clothing that
looks like, well, kid's clothes. He’s
very passionate about cartoon dogs, outlandish pink flowers. He’d probably put her in the dreaded
character clothing if I wouldn’t leave him the second he brought a Minnie Mouse onesie through the front door.
We nearly came to blows over the color of a hair ribbon the
other day. This is why kids destroy
marriages.
We finally began mudding (mudding? Is that a word?) our dining room drywall this
past weekend. I watched one-and-a-half
instructional Youtube videos and now I’m pretty sure I’m a pro. Look at those seams! Look at that learning curve! That’s like a 400% improvement from first to
second try. That’s the equivalent of a
biology student learning how to focus the microscope and then immediately
discovering a brand-new bacterium. What
I’m getting at, here, is that I am incredible, and I will now be freelancing in
dry-wall on the weekends.
I also took G-Money grocery shopping on Monday. She has unfortunately discovered the “t”
sound, and practices it freely and loudly.
“Tits, tits!” she shouted with incredible enunciation and clarity, all
through the baking aisle, the deli, the frozen section of the grocery
store. I tried to distract her with a
bag of mozzarella. “Tits!” she said, as
she threw it at a beer display. “Tits!”
she yelled at a passing old lady. “Tits,
tits, tits!” as we cashed out.
How do you shush a nearly-nine-month-old? I learned that you can’t. And if you’re trying to cling to your last
modicum of class you should try to stifle your laughter.
No comments:
Post a Comment