this little face. . .

aaachhooo! . . . .

aaachhooo! . . . .

(he inherited his Dada's sneezing patterns)

and a little face, covered in a big white kleenax, peeked at me over the back of the couch.

[blowing his nose]

I throw garbage.

And he walked it to the kitchen garbage.

Pod people escaped with my real baby boy this morning as I walked, I just know it.