Last week I noticed that there was a picture of a giggly naked kid floating in a tub on our refrigerator. I didn't think much of it, as we have pictures of many children on our fridge, many of them family and many of them that have just randomly arrived in the mail. Actually I guess they're all family or friend's kids, but there have been occasions when I've said things like "This one kid over here on the left is going to get the stew beat out of him on the playground...what with that crazy eye and all." This is usually followed by my girly screams as Erin injures and informs me that that was her 3rd cousin's son on her mom's aunt's side, twice removed, or some such.
In any case, as I was trolling around the freezer looking for something without the words "low" or "fat" anywhere on the packaging, I finally said, "Hey Hon, who's this giggly nekkid chick who's 'buns up' in the tub on our refrigerator." She got a somewhat perturbed look and said, "That's me, Bret." (Except you should replace my name with a commonly used term for a donkey.) I took another look, and I'll be danged, but it was her. Apparently this picture is one of her aunt's favorites, and she brought it back with her from her recent trip to the west coast.
Later in the evening, I weakened my position yet a little bit further when I suggested that it wasn't easy to tell it was her. This did not yield pleasant results. I was thinking, "It was hard to tell it was you because I haven't seen you with diaper rash or a rubber ducky recently," but apparently the female mind goes in a different direction with such comments. The response I received was more like "Oh, so I'm not cute now that I'm over four feet tall" or "Oh, so I USED to be cute but now I'm just old." Someday I'll learn (but don't bank on it.)
In any case, as I was trolling around the freezer looking for something without the words "low" or "fat" anywhere on the packaging, I finally said, "Hey Hon, who's this giggly nekkid chick who's 'buns up' in the tub on our refrigerator." She got a somewhat perturbed look and said, "That's me, Bret." (Except you should replace my name with a commonly used term for a donkey.) I took another look, and I'll be danged, but it was her. Apparently this picture is one of her aunt's favorites, and she brought it back with her from her recent trip to the west coast.
Later in the evening, I weakened my position yet a little bit further when I suggested that it wasn't easy to tell it was her. This did not yield pleasant results. I was thinking, "It was hard to tell it was you because I haven't seen you with diaper rash or a rubber ducky recently," but apparently the female mind goes in a different direction with such comments. The response I received was more like "Oh, so I'm not cute now that I'm over four feet tall" or "Oh, so I USED to be cute but now I'm just old." Someday I'll learn (but don't bank on it.)
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2 comments:
Just remeber that naked pictures of Grant will someday be on someones refridge!
And. . . until Grace arrives I am sure that Erin was the cutest baby girl clothes or no clothes! (Bret take note for next time you encounter another "Erin baby pic"!)
Bret-I think you should scan the photo and use the threat of blog post as leverage against Erin next time you want something! It is so sad what I have been reduced to after being married to Derek all the these years.
Pam
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