Someone asked me recently how Matt was going to pay for his many domestic sins of late, telling me the truth about my hair...HELLO! Karma worked itself out because last night he asked me to give him a haircut. Heh. Not that I sabotaged it on purpose, or that he cared at all, it just looks a little weird. Not as crazy as the Billy Ray Cyrus meets Farrah Fawcett thing he had going on before, but I keep seeing hairs that I missed and it annoys me.
We were in a hurry because we're trying to pack for a very short visit home. Puppy needed a bath (which he is just so patient about, yay!) and dishes needed to be done and also the packing. I imagine traveling with a baby is supposed to be more work but it seems to me they have similar paraphernalia with the exception of clothes. We're taking every toy, snack, bed, and gate we can lay hands on so as not to cause too much trouble. He's really very good in other people's homes. He's really very good all the time but if he injures an inch of my dad's house we'll never hear the end of it so it's all hands on deck.
I'm going to search for a sports bra and I think the ladies in the comments are quite right about just finding something that works no matter what it's called. So wise. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to try on bras until my arms fall off or my boyfriend dies of mall exhaustion. It's a very important mission.
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