Boys are gross!
It was bath time at the Yoys. For whatever reason, Little E loves to pull up in the bathtub, and usually nowhere else. There couldn't possibly be a worse place to do this. It's slippery, he's wobbly, it is a recipe for a major disaster.
Tonight he pulled up and curled his meat hook hands over the side of the tub. He was so proud of himself. Just standing there in all his baby glory. I was half cheering him on and half holding onto him so he wouldn't bust it.
Little E's not so little bottom was just too tempting for Big E.
For all the world to see, but really it was just me, Big E credit checked him.
Yeah, I said it. CREDIT CHECKED. Right there. In the tub.
Don't know what it is? Look it up!
Little E thought this was hilarious and started laughing.
Really? I know I am surrounded by Boy Yoys and I need to adapt to their grossness, but I also need to be eased into this. Maybe just some alphabet burping? Or pooting?
Baby steps.
Tonight he pulled up and curled his meat hook hands over the side of the tub. He was so proud of himself. Just standing there in all his baby glory. I was half cheering him on and half holding onto him so he wouldn't bust it.
Little E's not so little bottom was just too tempting for Big E.
For all the world to see, but really it was just me, Big E credit checked him.
Yeah, I said it. CREDIT CHECKED. Right there. In the tub.
Don't know what it is? Look it up!
Little E thought this was hilarious and started laughing.
Really? I know I am surrounded by Boy Yoys and I need to adapt to their grossness, but I also need to be eased into this. Maybe just some alphabet burping? Or pooting?
Baby steps.
Mrs. Yoy rule #19.
By the way, one of my friends asked me what a credit check was. She only had a sister, which just proves my point about boys. They are gross.
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