So I now have motherknowsbest.blogspot because I can't do therapy while pregnant since I read Dune. Long story-Benegesserit witches and pre-birth knowledge...know what I mean?! Anyway....

I have starting looking at my previously perfect husband with a more critical eye now that we may well be responsible for raising a child. For example.. today we had to take Hobbes, the pumpkin bunny of a pit/mix mutt, to the vet to have his anal glands expressed. We had to be there at 11 and I reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeealy hate to be late. Late doesn't bother Bear for a New York second! We live just about 10 minutes from the vet. He tears himself away from his computer at 10:45 and says he thinks he'll take a shower first. I only don't kill him because I have just used every drop of hot water in the house :)

I'll skip the whole vet thing. Well, maybe not. Some lady dragged her genetically challenged bulldog practically under a bench to get away from our muffin, who really does look like a pitbull. I just hate the prejudice he endures. He is the sweetest of the sweet and really only wants to sit in my lap and have his face kissed---but she yanks her dog out of the way so it doesn't get eaten. Ugh! So, Hobbes had his butt check and we did some errands and came home.

Here is a picture of my terrifying pitbull mix, taking a nap on his favorite binkie...


The relevance, you ask? Bear is in the other room singing a song to the tune of 'If You're Happy And You Know It, Clap Your Hands.' He has changed the words a bit and it sounds like this--

If you had a finger in your butt, bark out loud!
If you had a finger in your butt, bark out loud!
If you had a finger in your butt and you really didn't mind
If you had a finger in your butt, bark out loud!
( he gives Hobbes the bark hand signal so he barks at the end of every line....)

Then he turned to Jack, the Patterdale terrier maniac:

If you want a finger in your butt, bark out loud!....

So both the dogs are barking and singing and Bear is giggling like a madman and I'm nervous about the kind of songs he will sing to the child......wait, I'm having a childhood flashback....my brother was the first one to get in trouble at school.....kindergarten...the children were asked what nursery rhymes they knew.....

MC: Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candle stick and burn his little ballsies.

Thanks to my parents' stilted humor, my brother is the master of free-form poetry.

*sigh* I'm a sarcastic mofo. My husband is, well, special and different. Our child is doomed to detention.