Today I got to babysit for my cousin’s ultra-adorable 3-month old baby. Becca and her friend Grace came along for support and we ended up squabbling over who was going to hold the baby. Since he slept for about 90% of the time we were there, every minute of baby-holding time was precious. At one point Grace asked if I was sorry I wasn’t going to have any more babies. I was so stunned that anyone would ask such a silly question (Yes, Virginia, there are in fact silly questions, stupid questions and flat-out ludicrous questions, to the contrary of what your teachers and parents have taught you.) and croaked out “Of course not!” Which gave me more leverage in the right to claim additional baby-time, because the girls could conceivably have their own sometime in the (very distant, after college) future and I am forever banished to the barren wasteland of almost-post-child-bearing women.

After getting home from the exhaustion of watching a baby sleep (in a swing that was set on the speed labeled "Formula One", with accompanying white noise that was supposed to mimic birds but sounded more like a cat’s tail was caught under a rocking chair) I decided to do some online holiday shopping. The sole result was eliminating this as a gift for our smallest dog.