Monday, June 22, 2009


Poor Kid. No more pop. No more ice cream. No more cookies. NO MORE SPEARMINT GUM.

If there's a bright side, I suppose he might not have such a fat mommy in a couple of weeks, if I stick to my promise to go on his anti-asthma diet with him. I might have worse breath, though.


  1. I sort of want to pinch your boy. Is that wrong?

  2. I hope you know I meant that in a "he is completely adorable" kind of way and not in an "how fun to inflict pain upon Lorraine's first born" kind of way. It is only fun to torture my own first born. But she is 11, so I am sure you can enjoy the potential in that!