Be sure to visit wordlesswednesday.com for more!

(An Aside: My 365 will be back at the beginning of the year. Just in case you were a'missin' 'em.)

So when that man that I married managed to knock me up for a third time, I had but one thought on my mind:

Please let the little bugger be healthy.

And then:

This one better damn well come with a vagina.

Or a gift receipt.

Whichever.

Because, let's face it, I was terribly outnumbered in that whole ratio of penises (penii? penses? Why can I never remember the plural of penis? You'd think I'd remember something like that… I can totally describe in perfect detail the outfit Brenda was wearing the night that she and Dylan broke up for the first time, but the plural form of penis escapes me. Go figure.) versus vaginas war.

Plus I had serious doubts as to whether or not my bathroom could withstand being abused by one more human being with questionable aim.

And I really really really wanted to stick some pigtails on something. With matching bows. And striped tights. And tutus. And just pink. Pink, damnit. PINK.

Then she was a she. And I stuck bows on her head, and stuffed her in striped tights, and dressed her up in every color of tutu that I could find…

But those pigtails?

They took two damned years to get here.

And by that time, I was bloody bored.

Of course, Peter hates it.

And wonders why it is that his daughter now has shorter hair than his son…

But then I'm still wondering what's so damn hard about actually hitting the toilet.

So it's all good.

poser (plural posers)

1. A particularly difficult question or puzzle.
2. Someone who, or something which, poses.
3. Someone who likes to talk big, and look good, but doesn't do much.
4. (pejorative) = poseur

Related terms

* faker
* impostor

And, yes, this still counts as a Wordless Wednesday.

Well, it does on this blog anyhow.

So stop hatin' already.

Remember on my review blog, Reviewful, when I told you all about the Sensa Weight Loss System and how I've lost 2 lbs on it?

No? Then be sure to read my review by clicking here.

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I know. AWESOME. And you know what's even more awesome awesomer?

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What'd I tell you?

A-W-E-S-O-M-E.

So what'cha waiting for?

Go.

Now.

Your ass will love you for it, I promise.

that, given the proper chance, a wife will thoroughly embarrass her spouse.

In front of all his mates.

And he will never live it down.

Never.

Although, to be fair, I must say that had I known that the little blue tooth thingamajig that is permanently fused to my husband's ear was, at that particular time, actually connected to the Playstation 3 rather than his cell phone; and that he was actually speaking with a handful or so of people, both stranger and friend alike, that were likewise attached to Playstation's themselves rather than just the one guy that we've both known forever who tends to appreciate marital discord like no other, I might not have done the following:

Judith:[hands Peter a coke] Here 'ya go.

Peter: [nods]

Judith: [waits a few patient seconds and then takes coke back] Killing zombies makes you forget your manners, eh?

Peter: [makes a dirty face and guestures for the return of the coke]

Judith: [hands Peter a coke] Here 'ya go…

Peter: [clenches teeth] Thank you.

Judith: [in a sing-song voice] Thank you… what?

Peter: [grinds teeth audibly] Thank you for the coke.

Judith: [continuing in the sing song voice that even makes her gag] Thank you for the coke… what?

Peter:  [with resignation] Thank you for the coke, honey.

Judith: [leaving the room] You're welcome!

Several hours later…

Judith: Oh good, you're done. I was about to come in here and scream at you like a fishwife or something for you to get off that stupid thing…

Peter: [rolls eyes] Yeah… God forbid you sound like a fishwife.

Judith: Are you calling me a fishwife???

Peter: Now why would I call you a fishwife? I mean– it's not like I just spent the last three hours playing a game with a bunch of guys who, at every turn, would say to me, "Thank you, honey." If I shot a zombie, "Thank you, honey." Covered their back, "Thank you, honey." Helped them figured out a move, "Thank you, honey." So why in the world would I ever call you a fishwife? It's not like that was embarrasing or anything— Oh, for heaven's sake, stop laughing.  It's not funny.

Judith: [wiping tears from her eyes] You're right. It's not funny. I'm sorry… honey.

It is a truth universally acknowledged

that, given the proper chance, a wife will thoroughly embarrass her spouse.

In front of all his mates.

And he will never live it down.

Never.

Ain't love grand???