Chuck liked the new header I designed but he had some questions, like where was his mullet?
I love that my husband wants me to draw a mullet on his head.
Tragically, I had to tell him that he doesn't have hair. In real life or in Mulletville.
Then he wanted to know where his crown was? I told him that I gave myself a crown. It’s my blog and I’m my own frog prince.
He did need some kind of head dressing though. So yah, I did him up Viking style.
While we’re on the subject of hair, or lack thereof, I took Junior to the park yesterday after work. We were talking to the ducks (Junior does this kind of throat honk that's really cute) when a bald dude walked by. Junior stopped and very seriously whispered “Dada.”
Outwardly, I had a good laugh but inside I was seething. The little shit says “Dada” nonstop. He also says “whoah,” “boom,” “buh-bye,” “illy” (for kitty), "baby," "out," and “hi-ey.” The one word he has yet to utter?
But I’m not bitter. I definitely have not considered drawing my frog child with snaggled teeth, a crater-like head, and minscule eyes, like this:
Nope, because a mother’s love is never, ever petty.
Did you hear that Junior? Did you just hear what mama said? Mammamamamaamamamamamama.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.