My dad loves me enough to read my blog.
He also loves me enough to pick me and my friends up at 3am on New Years Eve after my friend’s car broke down at a Widespread Panic show. Sure that happened 15 years ago, but it’s a true story. Oh, and to top it off, he then offered to take all of us to Waffle House.
Speaking of waffles (nom, nom, nom), I’ve been needing a new place to put mine. Fortunately I stumbled across these beautiful plates from Hope Johnson and knew they had to be mine. Oh yes, they will be mine.
I know you’re thinking that I really don’t need more encouragement to eat, and you’re right, but I do like my food to feel pretty.
By the way, is 18 months the new terrible twos? What happened to my sweet un-opinionated baby? I can hardly wait until she’s a teenager. That’s me being sarcastic if you couldn’t tell.