Yes, He Did.

Yes, he did drop the bomb last night. Un-bee-leevable.

He wants another child.

He's the one who, all along, said only one. Just one. That was the environmentally and socially responsible choice. Overpopulation. Hoogabaga. Persnickity whap.

Now that I'm mentally all done with babies, nursing, all that crap, now that AB is sleeping all night and well, now that we're starting to be able to do fun stuff with her he wants to fling us (us?) headlong into a sweaty pregnancy, gory birth, and round-the-clock nursing, diapering, pumping, and cat-napping - but this time with a toddler screaming in the background. Delicious.

The jury is out. And by "jury" I mean me. And by "out" I mean I don't friggin' think so, buster.

Why I am So Sad
Vacations suck. They only serve as a reminder of how dull and pointless is one's workaday life. Of how much crap there is to be done and how much crap has not been done. Take my bathroom sink cabinet. I haven't braved the far reaches of that thing in 4 years. There could be a troll in there, guffawing and feasting on decaying bath salts. When am I going to find the time to go through there, ditch the troll, and implement a system to keep him from coming back? Never, that's when. Or, how can so much crap accrue in a garage? Can't someone buy this sh*t from us? What if we pay someone to take it? Do I really have to go back to work? And pay bills? You must be joking!

So no matter how great your life is, it sucks compared to being on vacation. I will never go on vacation again, so I don't realize how boring and uncool my life really is.

Now go plan your trip to Cozumel. If you drink a lot of local water it will make your regular life seem awesome.