Sleeping beauty

My daughter, unlike my son at this age, apparently knows the value of getting enough sleep to ward off dark circles and crabbiness. Last night she slept from 1-6:30 a.m. I had to wake her up to eat at 6:30 as my boobs were KILLING me. (That's right, we've returned to talk of the boobs again. It's not even been a year since I stopped nursing Jack. It's like coming full circle.)

Earlier in the evening, Josh had been holding her while I was giving Jack his bath. Evidently, she was hungry and he was trying to ward off the crying jag with the pinky-in-the-mouth-like-a-pacifier trick.

He snapped at me to hurry up and he could finish putting Jack to sleep because she was hungry. I said fine, but she seemed quiet enough. He said that's because he had his pinky in her piehole.

"And she's really sucking hard," he said. "She bruised me! You need to take her."

As my eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and I am about the scream at the top of my lungs, I calmly say instead, "My nipples have no sympathy for your freaking PINKY FINGER."

Later, I asked why he had not loaded the dishwasher and then quickly added, "Oh, that's right, your pinky must be too bruised and sore."