A letter to my dear husband

Dearest Husband,

Please do not bring me flowers. Please don't stop by QT for a 49 cent beverage for me. Please don't offer me a trip to Chick-fil-a for a cup of ice cream or a cookies -n- cream milk shake. I have decided that what I really want from you today is a snugli to carry our precious newborn son in while at the grocery store. I promise not to make you wear it - ever. The girls also make this request of you. They had to share their seat in the grocery store today with milk, tomato juice and other such bulky items that would not fit between the gigantasaurous car seat and the behemoth buggy we were forced to drive around the Wal-mart. Notice their distraught faces in the above picture. To make matters worse, it was the worst buggy of the bunch clearly engineered by an aerobics instructor to make post-partum women bounce back into shape after hunching over and lunging each time they start walking again. My abs feel tighter already. Thank you for your kind attention to this very pressing matter. You are the best and I love you dearly.

P.S. If you are going to QT, I'd love a frosty beverage.

Love

Grumpy in the Grocery store