Baby love.

Everything I just typed disappeared into the Interwebs clouds. It’s 11:17, and I’m really tired and burned out from thinking. So here’s the bulleted version of a sweet post I wrote about Sadie and her 1991 Cabbage Patch Preemie doll.

  • Got him at a flea market this past weekend.
  • She wasn’t interested in him at all at first.
  • I got him anyway, because it made me nostalgic, and it made me feel better for not buying her all of the hideously ugly dolls she’d been drawn to (Mama has standards).
  • Now, she’s freaking in love with him. It’s the cutest thing ever.
  • She hugs him tight.
  • She pats his back.
  • She gives him kisses.
  • She shushes him.
  • She’s slept with him every night since.
  • We took them both to vote this morning.

I let her borrow my I Voted sticker for the photo. Then I took it back.

Notice the death grip she's got on him. She was a sad gal when we had to leave him behind after our walk home. We're not risking losing this guy at daycare.

Girlfriend wants my iPhone so bad.

P.S. If you’d told me five years ago I’d be standing over my kitchen sink at 10:30 at night, scraping digested food bits out of cloth diaper tabs, I’d have called you a lying whore.

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