I spent my weekend hanging out with these two:
Yep, we carted ourselves (and poor Arlo) back up to Minnesota for the weekend. Just to hang out. I saw Kellen a whole bunch and man, that kid is shaping up to be a heart breaker. Also, he’s the first infant I’ve been around since The Baby Craze began and I had a real, live, physical reaction to him! Every time I held Kellen this weekend my body temperature rose and my palms got sweaty. Sounds like pretty typical nerves, I know, but I didn’t FEEL nervous at all. Hanging out with him was pretty natural, I’d say. But that reaction was totally strange. Do we ladies really have an honest-to-God biological clock? Because if so, mine is ticking and booming in a deafening kind of way.
Please disregard the douche look on my face. Also my multiple chins. Look! A delicious baby!
I am apparently the Spawn of Satan, what with my shiny red devil eyes and all. At least Kellen’s head is hiding my many evil chins, with their plans for world domination!
Sooo, in other, non-chin-related news, did you know that Wisconsin packs one helluva speeding ticket punch? Yeah, neither did we. They have this crazy points system where different traffic infractions are worth various amounts of points, and if you reach twelve points in one year your license is suspended. Seems kind of stupid and needlessly complicated, but whatever, they’re cheeseheads, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT? Speaking of twelve, did you know that going twelve miles per hour over the speed limit not only lands you with four points on your record, but also a $200 ticket? Neither did we! But now we are possessors of that knowledge because Zack got himself good and pulled over on Friday. This is the part where I’d like to point out that there were other more deserving cars who should have received the attention of Sean, a.k.a. Officer Smiles, a.k.a. Officer Get Your Fucking Face Out of My Window Before I Punch It. He tried to be all sweet about giving us a ticket, making sure our feelings weren’t hurt and that we didn’t think he was mad at us. My feeling on that is, if you’re going to be a dick, commit to it. Don’t sugar coat the fact that you singled us out (holler, bright red car!) among other, faster drivers and could have let us off with a warning about our hellishly fast twelve extra miles per hour but instead will be costing us all forms of entertainment for the next month so you could meet your quota. Just…we’re not friends. Friends don’t give friends $200 unnecessary tickets.