PG-13 Sesame Street Lessons

So, I survived The Big Breakfast. Barely. Between blowing out the circuits umpteen times and cooking 400 sausages, I didn’t have a spare moment to take a picture of those tasty crockpot eggs. Yum. Rumor has it they were a hit. Of course, my only sources were the two ladies who insisted upon bringing them.

I invited my in-laws over for the breakfast to eat and help with the kids. Yeah, right. Those poor folks got roped into sausage duty and didn’t see beyond the kitchen; I sure know how to show them a good time! Kinda like when I moved from Salt Lake City to Colorado and threw myself the biggest and baddest “Going-Away Party” around. Oh, and maybe just maybe there were a few boxes that needed to be taken out to the U-Haul that was parked outside of my house. Beats me how it got there.

In other news, I had my six-week postpartum checkup today. Jamie, like most new fathers, has been counting down the days until this appointment. The blessed day when his best friend (my OB) tells him that after weeks of banishment from anything the child came out of or eats from, He Is In. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s ready.

Evidence #1
I was schooling Hadley on the alphabet the other day when we came to the letter “O.”

“Open starts with the letter ‘O.’ Jamie, can you think of another word that starts with the letter ‘O?’”

“Orgasm,” he replied. Because every two year old needs to have that in her vocabulary. I can’t wait for her to bring that one up around his parents.

Evidence #2
When doing aerobics the other day, I had my hand over my chest to prevent from bouncing all around and complained to Jamie that I needed a good sports bra. He quietly observed me in action before boldly proclaiming, “Let my people go.”

Somehow, I don’t think that’s what Moses had in mind.

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