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woman no cry. baby no sleep. Setting: A deep, dark suburban living room.
Our Hero Mongi: (speaking in terrible facsimile of an Australian accent) Crikey! You can't even see the little bugger yet, but already from the sound of it you can tell that he's big...and hungry.
End Scene
Day sixteen of both my stay here at Casa de Emerson and of said Emerson's life. So far, neither of us is insane yet. But I'm holding on by a thread. Just to let you know how I'm doing I'll provide week one vs. week two side by side comparisons.
Week One: Isn't it fun to feed the baby? Go on, baby, take all the time you need to drink your yummy formula.
Week One: Support baby's head at all times.
Week One: Isn't baby precious when he cries?
P.S. He's got gas. He's always got gas. < pitiful excuse for an update, but, hey, I'm using AOL - paperback writer rides again > |
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MsMongi aka Kim Too Pink? Bite me. |
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