Are You Smarter Than a Toddler?

In case there is any question about who is smarter, me or Todd. . .

This morning, Todd got up and we dressed the children for church with their grandparents and Todd took one for the team by going with them. (We have decided, after multiple reports from Senor Tattletale about his grandparents not bothering to strap him completely into his carseat, that the grands will no longer be taking the kids in the car without one of us going along.)

I could have been stuck going with them, but I am smart, and I did not put one item of clothing in my suitcase that could possibly be viewed as remotely appropriate for even the most casual Alabama Baptist Church service. Todd? He is a dumbass and he brought khakis. He will fit right in with all the little Auburn Tiger college kids at church, with their flippy hair, and their flippy belts. Me? Hooded sweatshirt. Multiple faded tees. Ratty boots and rattier Chucks. One pair of jeans.

[Evil, evil bwahahahahaha-sounding laugh.]

I’ve spent the morning lingering over coffee, checking email, and listening to KEXP. Then I heated up leftovers (baby quiches! chicken wings! hashbrownmutherfuckincasserole!) and popped open a coke and watched The Big Lebowski. The only thing that would make this Sunday morning better is if my in-laws had a well-stocked liquor cabinet. Okay, I’d settle for a slightly-stocked liquor cabinet.

Todd’s a gamer, though, so I fully expect him to realize he has been outsmarted and come back in here with some kind of “but Baby, I took the kids to church, so when we get home, I’m going to the Flatiron” scam.

Doodlebug ain’t havin’ it.

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