Swimsuits, Babies, and Insults

That title pretty much sums up my 4th. We spent the afternoon hanging in the pool at my pre-school friend's father's house enjoying his massive annual party. The perfect place to be since the mercury was hovering at 100.



So patriotic! So summery!

The place was practically swarming with babies, which of course is fine with me. It may be why, however, a guest of about 5 asked me where my baby was.

"I don't have one," I replied.

"Oh, it's still in your tummy?" she asked, staring at my bared abdomen.

"Yes, yes it is." I couldn't think of any other way to reply. For one, if you want to get into semantics, she is technically correct. Any future progeny are, with half of their required DNA, still "in my tummy". Second, did a 5 year old just basically call me fat?

I went in search of some baby cuddles to remedy my wounded ego.



Baby toes in the grass!

The baby possessing the above toes fell asleep on my chest rocking in a shaded porch swing. Is there a better way to end a summer holiday? I think not.

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