Seems as though everyone in the family is still getting used to the new sights, smells...and sounds of a new baby. Yes, poor Whit has inherited my gut. Sure, the fragrance can be off-putting at times, but it is the sound that has taken some getting used to. Soon after I shot this photo the other evening, Whit fired at will, and Lucy was so startled that she did a Jackie Chan move right out of the chair. Then yesterday when Whit finally decided to slow his roll and chill for a bit, I caught a couple minutes of shut-eye. He was so magnificently relaxed that he broke wind, and it was so loud and rhythmic that in my stupor, I thought someone was knocking at the door. Now that is a good time - springing up to run to the door, only to realize that your precious peanut had simply sounded his booty trumpet. I can't help but think this whole "I'm a baby" thing is an act - he is a grown man (probably a frat boy) in a little bitty body.
No comments:
Post a Comment