Our Little Crack Baby

Many of our conversations drift to babies. It is my fault. It is filling my mind. Babies, babies, babies. Must. Have. Baby. Yesterday, we were in the car going to pick up the girls (take note - they were not with us YET - which makes this conversation a tiny bit less sick and twisted than if they were in the car) and ended up talking about a T-shirt site a friend sent me.

One of my favorite T's is : PLAYGROUND PIMP Your baby is the baddest ass in the sandbox...get him this baby t-shirt and he'll be pulling all the baby bitches

God I love the good, clean humor!

"ooooh - we should get one that says "Crack Baby"

"Well, that would be enterprising. Our baby would be a bad ass. He would walk around selling crack to all his baby friends - so it is not like he would be a user...just a pusher"

"Quite enterprising really. He will be the richest baby around"

"He will be The Man - all of the other babies will come to him for their supply"

"Who could be opposed to that? Certainly not the visitation social study people. Our baby will be rich."

"Who's low rider is that in your front yard - the one with the tinted windows and light-up license plate? Why that belongs to our baby. He bought it with his crack money. And in 15 1/2 years he will be able to drive it"

"What a good little crack baby"

"No way God is ever gonna let us have kids"

"hmmmm"