I like to kid around (duh), so obviously April Fool's Day is one of my favorites... at least, when I remember. This year I was excited because I'm married, and I could finally do the whole "I'm preggo" bit without some serious eyebrow raising. I didn't know babies were apparently off limits. Next year I'll pretend I'm in a coma (err someone else will have to pretend).
I'm sorry if you got your teeny smalls up! We aren't having a little baby. At least, not yet. (If Grahm had his way it wouldn't be for another five years.) But really, we definitely don't look like two people ready to rear a child.
Honestly, I got a bit of baby fever just from pretend telling everyone. It was so fun! Thank you for being excited for us, even if I was just yanking your gallbladder. Moral of the story: if you can't take a joke, maybe you should get you buns off this blog cause I'll be typing funnies (to me, anyway) all up in your grill.
Until pooping out a bundle of love, I will settle for loving on my nanny twinsies. This is Anna in her little swing (a very hard moment to capture). Precious much?