All in a day's work

Ha! I don't know what you bums have been doing this summer, but my husband has been up to absolutely no good. A prime example would be the fact that he's been spending time hobnobbing with Wisconsin's governor in the course of his daily duties. Something about the governor coming to say "Yeah!" about some program he's in charge of. Don't believe me? Here...I have proof:

(He asked me to pick him out an outfit for that day, something that has only happened about 4 times in about 11 years, so I knew he was really pissing himself.)

If you're you, you see Big K and the gov'nor in the above picture. If you're me, you can see that Big K is shitting himself. He's got that uptight draw to his face, his chest is puffed out a bit like a rooster, and he's not breathing enough. (He really was excited about this.)

Here they are, discussing the world's problems. Maybe they're setting up a poker game for later. Who the hell knows. Once you bust out of the junkyard and onto the international political scene, the sky is the limit. He might have a lunch date with Hillary Clinton this afternoon. Who knows. The Woods can't keep this guy down. Oh no.

I can nearly guarantee that while these photos were being taken, I was personally handling the bodily fluids of a human or animal other than myself. Some stars rise, some stars fall. 'Tis the way of the world. :)

And in completely unrelated news, I had a funny moment this morning where I realized that I am definitely no longer anything resembling a new mom. (I could (and should) write a really hilarious post on new mom vs. experienced mom tendencies...that would be a trip.) But anyhow, I don't know about you people, but my kids (as babies/early toddlers) like to scream as if they are being slaughtered when you try to wipe the food off their face and hands after they've eaten. Bigs sees that rag coming at him and he turns away like it's a sledgehammer. So when this was Phook, I felt really terribly about how much she hated having her face wiped. I dreaded it on her behalf and was overcome with compassion after every meal. Today, when Bigs was having his morning wipe-down after breakfast, he of course threw his head back in a howling, militant rage. And my thought, rather than a wave of compassion for my child's plight, was this: Geez, it sure helps me get the food out of your neck fat when you throw your head back like that.

I thought that was tits.

So anyhow, my husband is a pimp. The only way this would have been cooler is if we were Alaskans a few weeks ago, and then these pictures would have portrayed him shaking hands with a crazy, heat-packin' MILF. That would have been epic. But we'll take what we can get.

XO,
Big W