Beav's now at 20 weeks. That means we're about halfway home, assuming we don't opt to leave the chooch in there for another 10 months to fully realize its genius. And to give dad a few more months of bad decision making before his bundle of joy arrives.
We're only dining from the viking buffet these days. Evidence to my left. Caught Beav with that pork shank under her pillow last night.
Still can't feel this "movement". But I'm assured we have a bonified cannonballer in there.
Dad has band practice tonight. Means he'll probably come home smelling funny again.
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