“This mobile of Little Button’s is the coolest baby toy ever.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of like a june bug.”

“SHUT UP.”

When I was younger, in my everpresent desire to express goodwill to the animal kingdom, I would often tour the pool’s skimmer baskets to rescue frogs and other happless little creatures that found themselves entrapped.

One of my charity cases was June Bugs. By the time I found them in the skimmer, they were usually dead, but if I happened to see one fly into the pool, I would scoop it up and set it on the side. Much to my frustration, the rescued creatures would often immediately take another nose dive into the pool toward as though they had a death wish…and zero appreciation for my attempts of salvation.

Not the smartest members of creation.

In another effort to rescue a hapless creature yesterday, I put our cat on the opposite side of the pet gate as the dog, in an effort to salvage the fur he has left after an intense wrestling match. J witnessed the situation.

“He must enjoy getting mauled by the dog. I did the same thing last night and he just jumped right back over.”

“I know, it’s an endless cycle. It’s like a june bug that dives right back into the pool.”

“Yeah…he’s like a…june…bug.”

“SHUT UP.”

The Nanny quit today. This is a bad day. And the rotten headache I’ve had since last night doesn’t help either.

I know breastfeeding is supposed to make my kid smarter, but I swear it’s making me dumber. Or perhaps the fact that I never get more than 3 consecutive hours of sleep is finally catching up to me.

I just looked at my calendar, which has next monday marked as MLK (Martin Luther King) Day and I totally thought it said MILK DAY.