Poor Maggie has been sick for weeks. This week she sounds like a 60 year old male smoker. When she talks to me it's a little bit freaky. That voice just shouldn't come out of that little mouth. Next thing I know she'll be calling me Mel and telling me to pass the smokes.
As a product of parents who were lax in the affection department, I tend to go overboard. I'm always telling M how much I love her. Lately my affections have not gone unnoticed. Last night M told me that her favorite body part was "my love." While this is sweet, everyone who knows us can confirm that her true favorite body is my boobs. This is what I get for popping my slow to gain baby on my breasts every time she cried; I didn't want the little peanut starve. She clearly did not starve and in the process I created a boob monster. We actually have a rule in our house..."no touching mommy's boobies." I mean, really!! I keep telling her that she needs a girlfriend. I even tried to pass Aunt Eileen's clearly superior breasts off to her, but neither party was interested.
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