Because...whoopsie...I forgot I wrote a little sumpin'-sumpin' for my girl, Masala Chica, while she jet sets on "work" trips (yeah, whatevs, Kiran. We know you're fist-pumping at London's hottest underground spot and writing it all off at the end of the year. But we love you anyway. Just bring us back something tall, dark, and looking a lot like Colin Firth).
Anyway, Happy Champagne Friday...go visit me over there. Because two posts from me in one day is enough to make a person blind. And I have birthday shopping to do for Hubster's big day next week. I would tell you what anniversary of 21 he's celebrating but, technically, he still has a blog and retaliation stings like a wet handtowel snapped on the inner thigh.
Also? While you're over there, go ahead and follow her because she's hysterical, with an H. I mean how many beautiful mommies do you know who find themselves getting kicked out of the American Legion? If your answer is "zero" that's reason enough to stalk her. Even if you somehow know somebody, stalk her anyway. And if you're lucky, you may just stumble across the post where she discusses how she made the most gorgeous pictures with a squirting-poo-baby.