The Case of the Soggy Socks
This morning I woke up and looked in on my sweet baby in the bassinet. He was awake and smiling. I noticed however, that his socks were sopping wet. I picked him up and felt his PJs. They were dry. His sheets were dry. I wondered how his socks had gotten so wet. I figured it out after I returned to the room to give him his bottle. There he was, with both feet in his mouth, happily munching on his toes. Mystery solved. "Don't put your feet in your mouth Baby," I told him. "There will be plenty of time for that when you are older."
In other news, I read in a fashion magazine the other day that butts are the new boobs. I don't know why. If that's true, then I'm like the Dolly Parton of the butt world. Maybe I should open up a theme park and name it Bootyville. Another magazine said that 30 is the new 20. So now according to the fashion world, I am 18 and a 44DD. Yay me!
I am also gald that the metrosexual fad is over. Metrosexual, for those of you that don;t know, was a movement in society where men started carrying little handbags and getting pedicures. Yuck! If I wanted to marry a gay guy...well, there's just no way to finish that sentance. The new movement is the ubermale. This is where men go back to being the big, burly, burping, scratching, guys we all love. I want to feel like my man will protect me. Not like he'll be afraid to break one of his perfectly manicured nails. Sure, I think guys should look nice. They should be able to dress up when necessary. But that's what wives are for. Keep your pansy man. I'll keep my Brawny man!