I'M IN LOVE

^It's official. I'm in love. This photo above captures the look he is giving me most of the day. I smile and talk to him. He smiles and talks back. But the best is that slightly-amused look he gives me. I can tell he likes me back!

^I just want to SQUEEZE his smooshyness!!!

^I only wish that through the computer you could get one big hit of baby's wafting scent, now especially good since Andrea taught me about the powder-scented corn starch for his drooly neck crack. Mmmm mmmm good.

I love my Benny Boy Boom Booms. That is what Anika calls him. She's finally moved away from calling him Sandwich Head.

Bemy babysits constantly. Thanks, Rosario. I totally feel like a rich lady with a nanny.

Fun!

The Eternal Question

I wrote this a long time ago to post on Nicole's blog for my girlfriends to read and since I am too lazy to write anything new... I thought I'd post it here for y'all.
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I often find myself pondering... Bear Grylls? Or Les Stroud?

Man Vs. Wild stands alone in its ability to trigger my gag reflex as much as... anything else. I especially tune in when he is going somewhere cold because there is a high likelihood of Bear getting wet and taking his clothes off all the way down to his cute little British boxer briefs. Who can refute the hotness:

Faults? A little too hyper. And perhaps a little too hairless. You just know the second the cameras are off he sets down that elephant dung and dines on whatever is flown in for him. Whatever. He was a member of the British Special Forces. Me likey.

But what if you were forced to choose? Would you take the hyper, hairless Brit? Tempting. But I think I prefer my men a little less fancy. Enter Les Stroud:

Hairier than myself. The smallest bit of flab on the midsection. Hmmm. Yes, I like this. His show Survivorman isn't as spastic. He has no crew. He films himself. He is calming. Soothing. Less fancy-pants with less fancy pants. Probably wears faded, threadbare underwear.

So girls. You have to survive in the wilderness with one of these men. I'm sorry but you cannot have both. Who is it going to be? Are you going to let Bear boil you some crawdads in a hole in a rock, holding out hope for the British Skivvies? Or will you let Les shoot you a grouse, taking comfort in his calming presence?

Me? The winner is going to be Les.
A bit more man.
A little less spastic.

Great commercial

Here

Really Universe? To BEMY's truck?

Poor, poor Bemy. A neighbor came knocking on our door today saying she drove over a huge snake twice trying to kill it when she came home and then she saw it crawl up into Bemy's truck near the wheel.

Bemy was freaked, obviously. The boys looked everywhere for it. Under the truck, under the hood, all around the parking lot and couldn't find it.
Brandon even took the truck for a spin around the block to try and get it to come out if it was still in there. I kept telling Mom it just couldn't still be in there somewhere but she insisted she knew it was still there. She literally was never going to drive it again and sell it asap.

Tonight, the neighbor came home and when her lights shone on the truck, there it was... hanging out of the back!!!! Sick, sick, sickness. Can you imagine Bemy's horror as she came outside to inspect the thing?

We were relieved to see the tail without a rattle. It kept curling around and around, twisting all up in her truck, dropping down occasionally. Sick!

And though it was a good little snake, it still deserved to die just for being nasty. I was surprised at how I felt a tad sorry for it when Brandon killed it. But for Bemy's sake, she had to see it die.

She wasn't satisfied with the head hanging on by a thread and demanded Brandon completely sever its head.

Poor Bemy. Really universe? You had to pick Bemy's truck? On Monday, I saw two snakes... a California king and then a road runner with a snake. What is with the snakes?
Good night. Sweet dreams.