From Apple's journal #60

Chance is the happiest baby I have.
She giggles, she laughs, she chortles, she chuckles, she grins. She spends most of her time with huge smile plastered on her face, drooling happily.
She is also the fussiest baby I have.
She refuses to sleep longer than 2 hours, she doesn't eat as much as I would like her to and when she is not dazzling the world with her brilliant good mood she howls, she cries like she is being tortured. Luckily these moments are very short lived... but they are intense and frequent.
She's a master at keeping me from doing anything else so things around the house have been getting kind of sloppy.
Today, for example, I realised that the only clean shirt I had for Roderick was a rather inappropriate one.
I put it on thinking "oh who cares, he can't read it anyway".
I'm tired and my brain a bit sluggish so it took me a few seconds to catch up to reality and understand why the hell was Owen (who can read perfectly) asking me what a blow job was.
I looked at him blankly, hoping I misunderstood what he asked.
He pointed at the babbling baby on my arms and read: " All daddy wanted was a blowjob", then he looked at me and continued: "what's a blowjob mommy?".
I need to go do some laundry. NOW.