Why, oh why, sweet Truitt must you come in every night around 2:30am and climb in bed with me? And why, oh why, must you stick your bony elbow in my back/arm pit/bulging baby belly. And why, oh why, can't you sleep quietly like this...
Names
So last night as we are driving along, Fred asks the boys what they think would be a good name to call the baby when it is born. Of course we get the normal names that belong to all of our favorite friends, and even middle names of our immediate family. We explain how we would like a name that someone else doesn't already have, much like Aidan (back before the rest of America decided it was a "cool" name) and Truitt (haven't found another one of these yet, thank goodness). "Ohhhh" they say in unison, only to be followed by this list:
"Mr. Spongebob Squarepants!" yells Truitt.
"No," Aidan replys, "Tony Hawk is much better."
"Smash Baby!" yells Truitt.
Fred & I look at each other "Smash Baby?" I say. Fred responds with "YEAH, let's call it Smash Baby." GREEEAAAAT is all I can think. Truitt begins saying it over & over in his best heavy metal, head banger growl "Smaaaash Babyeeeee, Smaaaaash Babyeeeee, Smaaaaash Babyeeeee".
Now I remember why we don't discuss names with anyone. I'm not sure if "Smash Baby" is better than the "Alligator" that Aidan wanted to name Truitt, or not. sigh, again
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