All these months I've thought I wanted a baby. And then I realized that I already have one. He is 6'0" tall and has a goatee. Sure, he's potty trained, but he's the biggest man-baby I know. "I'm shivering, will you make me some soup? Not the canned kind, but the kind from the box with the skinny noodles? And get me some grape gatorade from the store?" I'm an obliging wife, so of course I try to make him comfy and get what he asks.
    "You got me DIET grape gatorade? It tastes funny. Can you pour off some of this broth from my soup? There's too much. Can you get me some water? From the Britta, not the tap? Will you wipe my butt?" (ok, that last part was an exaggeration, but it's only a matter of time before that comes up.) Our house sounds like we're on the set of a dirty movie with all the moaning this man-baby does when he's sick.... "Aahhooohh, I'm cold.... Aahhooohh, I'm weak...." I would LOVE to see this man have just one menstral cycle.... just one! He wouldn't make it through the first 30 minutes of cramps without falling apart. Well I've had enough... Pull out that tampon, ya big sissy, and suck it up!

(I love you, honey....)