Fickle, Frick Frick Frick Frickle

I have been scampering around for the last 23 minutes in nothing but a too-tight shirt and my underoos and let me further say that there was not a modicum of beauty about it. The sucktopus was attached to my hip the entire time while I yanked out every last item of dark clothing in the bureaus, in the laundry piles, in already folded laundry baskets, in the drawers with cheese graters and rolling pins, in the jar of TUMS. Frick Frick Frick on a Stick, where are the PANTS I just BOUGHT the other DAY and TOTALLY FOLDED and put on the BED IJUSTSAWTHEMMMMMMMMM. Wah.

Have I mentioned how fickle the sucktopus has been? One day, totally silly, docile, eager to practice her butt levitation. Next day, totally needy, whiney, disinterested in so much as wiggling her big toe. Sometimes it's Jekyll and Hyde, back and forth, to and fro, rolly polly pell mell every 15 minutes! Month 7! Who knew! I just put her down for the second nap o' the day and it's only 11:36a.m. Let's hope she wakes up as sweet as a vanilla wafer, shall we?

Well I am going to take this pantsless act elsewhere. Before that, though, let me meditate upon 3 happy thoughts:

1. Nana Red is coming in a few short days and you know she be bringin' the girly baby loot, n'ah mean? 2. My friend Shanananana just offered to babysit Baby Girl so I could go to a restaurant tasting. That was so sweet of her. 3. It's almost sweatah weathah. And also. Apple cider!

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Put on ya 'at and be 'appy....

Disclaimer: Lovey Loverpants wants you all to know that he does not always wear a wife beater and that he is not trying to be all "Ernest Goes to Jail" in his trashy swag. He is trying to be "My Name is Earl."