Wake-up call

So the other night Chris and I were talking before bed. In the course of our conversation we decided to have another baby. Not right now or anything, but someday. We decided this because I watched A Baby Story on TLC, and Chris was body snatched by aliens who want to increase the earth's population for better snackage. Because, seriously, I'm not sure Chris even admits that he wants the kids we currently have.

Anyway, upon hearing this, the very fabric of the universe shuttered.

You probably thought it was an earthquake.

Or your dehumidifier.

Nope, it was the cosmos dry heaving at the thought of having to endure another one of my pregnancies.

"We have to do something!" the gods cried.

So they gave Owen a terrible case of the Yarfs.

Poor thing.

I hate it when people puke.

But now I remember why we don't want any more kids. Just another thing that can throw up on my carpet.

Poor carpet, too.