Good News: For the first time in our seven-year relationship, my wife and I purchased a brand new mattress and boxspring. We got a smokin’ deal on top of a rebate and we will now be spending our nights on cloudlike memory foam.
Bad News: The new bed is about eight inches higher, so my pregnant wife can’t get in and out of bed without a stool.
Me: “But it’s nice once you get up here, right?”
Wife: “Shut up.”
Good News: The Twins have a new favorite game, the classic bubonic-plague-inspired “Ring Around the Rosie,” which they not only enthusiastically sing and play themselves, but also have their legion of Fisher Price Little People perform.
Whenever we’re out running errands, they sing it uncontrollably, as the song is constantly in their heads. They often get stuck in an endless loop of their favorite lyric, “Ashes, ashes.” It is adorable.
Bad News: Their toddler-esque pronunciation of this line sounds remarkably like a certain body part, resulting in the booming, sing-songy repetition of “Asses, asses,” up and down grocery store aisles, while waiting for our food in restaurants, and, of course, in the middle of church.