This morning started at 4:45am. Baby C decided that it was time to wake up about then, and began to babble like it was the middle of the goddamn day, so I took him out into the living room. Then, that sweet little asshole decided to go on a nursing strike. By the time 9am rolled around and he still hadn’t eaten a drop, I made him this:
From scratch! Amazing, right? I was pretty pleased. So I went ahead and helped myself to one of these:
Yep, it was still 9am. See that robot behind the box of chocolates? He’s totally judging me, I can sense it.
Now don’t get offended by my use of the word “asshole” to describe my adorable kids. I love them as much, or more even, than you love your kids. They are fucking awesome. But sometimes? They’re also really fucking annoying. That’s how kids are though. You can love them to death, but if you’re insisting that your lives are all sunshine and unicorns to the rest of us, you’re more than likely lying your face off.