Tuesday, May 1, 2012


My husband played water polo in high school. Each year, the school puts on an alumni vs current student game and my husband played in it this weekend.

Hubby and I attended different high schools and graduated two years apart (let's pretend he graduated first - well.. ok... if you must know, I'm the cradle robber) so our circle of school friends rarely crosses. But as I stood on the sidelines, cheering at my drowning husband (turns out, he's far more out of shape than he thought), the father of a long-time friend came up to me.

"Hey you!" he said, "Long time no see. How long has it been? 10? 15 years? Is this your little guy?" he pointed at baby boy.

"Oh hi!! Yes, this is my son!" I said proudly.

We chatted about old memories and old friends when all of the sudden, baby boy opens his mouth as wide as he can and blows his version of a raspberry on my cheek.

Spit flys everywhere.

"Heh. Kids" I say embarrassed.

Baby boy, clearly sensing his duty to continue to embarrass his mother, bites onto my neck and starts growling.

My friend's father remained silent, staring intently at my rabid child.

"Hm. Well. I'm gonna... um... change his diaper. See you later" I say over my growling child who has now started to slip in barks.

So. Here's a lesson to all the folks out there who will one day have children. Don't blow raspberries on your child's stomach... and it's not a good idea to let him or her play with the dog either.

He will be fully capable of returning the favor at precisely 9 months old...

and he will want an audience.

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