I got yer hawt right here.

This week’s Showin’ Off On Saturday Challenge is brought to you by The Hawtalucion - the movement to become “uninvisible.” 

Dawn has challenged us all to put together one outfit from clothes we already own that makes us feel good.  We are to “step away from the sweatpants” and Get.Hawt.

Hm. Okay. Go into my closet. Find something to wear… that makes me look good.  I may have forgotten how to do this.

 

I mean. Um.  This is what I look like on any given day:

Except I put on a bra for you, to take this picture.  You.Do.Not. want to see The Rack unfettered. Trust me. I mean – if you were to do something awesome while I was sans bra, and my hands were full?  I could STILL get a nice clapping sound going for you just by jumping up and down. Let that mull for a minute.  Wait for it… wait for it… there’s the look of disgust I was expecting. Alright! 

 

Okay… going into the closet… be right back…

I did it! Got clothes from the closet! How do I look!?

What’s that you say? Ohhh.  They have to be MY clothes?  I can’t choose from John’s side of the closet? Darn. Ok.

 

So.  I guess these are out of the question, then, too?

 

Darn! I was having so much fun doing this….

Going back to the closet…

Ok!  I have got to be looking hot by now!  And these are all MY clothes! What do you think???

No way.  This isn’t flattering?  Hm.  I have clearly forgotten how to put an outfit together.

 

Sexy… I’m trying to look sexy, right?

So, should I wear one of these? Which one?

OH. WAIT. NONE OF THESE FIT ME ANYMORE.  Thanks, Kevin&Leroy and Pattie.

Ok, let me try one more time.

I went into the bedroom looking for these GREAT polka dotted pants I have… but I tripped and fell and this mess got on me:

And somehow, I think this may be what we were going for?

Wait!  Let’s see…Oh. Yes.  The Rack approves.

And The Arse doesn’t look half bad!

 

And the shoes?  Come on, baby. Yeah.

It’s a winner!

 

Satan Created Teething

Yesterday and today have been lovely. Really.

On Sunday, Braden kept acting intensely clingy and cranky. You’d have thought someone had convinced him that if he acted as much like he was my ill-tempered, conjoined twin as was humanly possible, he’d win a bale of cotton candy. After several situations in which he melted down in a manner unlike him, I decided he must be having a teething session.

That afternoon, he picked up a toy, walked into the kitchen, and suddenly screamed, crumpling to the floor. He pushed his head into the linoleum and just cried. I was bewildered, and ran to get him. I assumed he was either in the process of sprouting horns, or must have just experienced some gum cutting. I checked his forehead, and saw nothing, so I decided it was the teething, and gave him some Acetaminophen.

At dinner that night, while he was opening wide for some Braden Burgers, I saw the new tooth. His lower, right lateral incisor had finally made an appearance. About time.

At bedtime, I gave him some Ibuprofen. He slept like a rock last night. Slept an hour later in the morning than usual, even. This behavior is a sign of the apocalypse. Or his body is going through a major overhaul. Considering all the talking he’s been doing lately, and the teething, it could be the latter.

Nah… I’m still thinking apocalypse.

Today was EVEN BETTER than yesterday. I thought (IDIOT.IDIOT.IDIOT) that he’d be much better today, since the tooth had broken the surface yesterday, and he’d had a lovely night of sleep.

HAHAHA!

I’m suspecting that the lower, right lateral incisor is causing him a lot of extra pain coming up, AND he’s also working on a lower, left cuspid. (I had to do some examining to come to this conclusion, which Braden thoroughly enjoyed. I almost had to use the Jaws of Life just to get in there.)

So, today, Braden basically decided that if he wasn’t at least 3 inches inside my butthole at all times, he was going to DIE.

It served me right, anyway, for wanting to do such ridiculous things.

Like pee when my bladder was full, or make myself something to eat.

OR BREATHE.

Activities that actually made him happy were things like yanking on my nose stud, flinging DVDs off the DVD tower, throwing his cup of apple juice across the kitchen, and whacking me in the face with his recorder flute.

I’m not stressed out about it at all.

But, I have decided that I don’t really want to put him in the closet when he’s like this, after all.

I want to go in there. Alone. And sleep.