Hubs is home sick today...and the following conversation recently took place over the phone:
"Hi honey, hey..while you're home do you think you could make a few calls?"
"sure - I've just got some laundry going right now"
"oh reeaaally? Playing Coco the houseboy are we?"
"hahaha....yeah, sort of"
"soooo - is there a speedo and a feather duster involved?"
"umm, babe - no speedo - that would be like wrapping a rubber band around an orange"
"haha - okay, how about some Lady Marmalade action then?"
"okay you can stop now"
aannnnnnndd THAT would be a pretty typical conversation in our household.
Scary that someday soon we're going to actually go to the hospital - and then they're just going to let us come home with a baby. BY OURSELVES.
In fact, that kinda makes me laugh - because I remember when we adopted Georgia and we had to fill out like 4 pages of questions about our "parenting" skills. How much time we'd be spending with her - what our philosophies were about potty training - whether or not we'd be enrolling her in dog obedience school - how much time she'd be left alone during the day....it was crazy - I mean I'm glad they do it, but I'm pretty sure that to have a baby they don't give you questionaire's like that (or do they? ha!). So we had to jump through all these hoops to prove we'd be good doggie parents and yet any ole Joe Schmoe can walk into a hospital and leave with a baby. There is something soooo backwards about that.
Course - if anyone were to tap our phones to become reassured of our fantastic parenting skills - we'd be totally screwed.