Happy Suburban Life

So Carole and Tom and baby Cassie came over for dinner last night, and it was truly bizarre. These are the people we used to go out and get plastered with, drinking Yuengling and shooting pool, and here we all were, drinking Warsteiner and discussing baby farts.

Maybe it wasn’t quite so weird. But still. We actually went so far as to lay the babies side by side on a blanket on the floor so that we could photograph them: The First Meeting. Owen kept slapping Cassie in the head with his fist, but neither really seemed to notice. And since she’s two months older than Owen, Cassie looked like a giant diesel dyke baby next to his puny newborn self, like she could totally crush his hopes and his dreams and his femur if she so desired, which luckily for us, she didn’t.

We’ve all decided that when it comes to be prom time, the kids are going to make their finery out of duct tape so they can win that 3M duct tape scholarship. They might be dorky and dressed in tape, but that scholarship should cover whatever is leftover after they score National Merit Finalist money, which they’ll totally do because they come from very smart stock, trust me.

The kids will have more time to get to know each other when we all get together for genteel, beery playdates over summer vacation.

Ooh, the naughty stool! The good thing about Owen’s sleeping/feeding schedule is that it leaves open the important 10 p.m. time slot so I can watch “Supernanny,” my new favorite show. God, I could listen to Jo Frost talk all day long. Say “naughty” again! Say it again!

What a face: In addition to his extraordinarily advanced neck muscles, he has the most expressive face ever. And he’s just so damned cute. How did we make something so damned cute?