life is good when you're three weeks old...

hey bebe! wanna go for a walk in the park with mommy and daddy? all you have to do is dance the happy dance-

good girl! let's get you into a preposterously cute outfit and into your stroller:

oh jeeze, beatrix. you kill me sometimes. that knit hat is pimpin'.

plotting your escape? need i remind you that even if you were able to get those banana hands to free your bonds(which in itself is highly unlikely since they can barely find your mouth at times), you would go nowhere on those legs of yours. they are hefty and sturdy in appearance only. for all intents and purposes, they are useless.

"curses! foiled again! damn you, baby body! someday, daddy... someday..."

beebs brought one-eyed jack along for the ride. i guess one never knows when a pirate will come in handy.

bebe, look at how pretty the pond is- everything is so green.

bebe?

i think i see some ducks...

zzz...zzz...zzz...zzz...zzz...

oh well. on wednesday, teed stopped by for dinner and some bebe time. for some reason, beatrix insisted on dressing up in her "reform school for bad clowns" prison wear. or maybe it was mommy's doing. either way, while we're on the subject may i suggest that we institute clown clothes and funny costumes as mandatory prison wear? i'm not saying we should hand out those squeeky noses or anything, that would be distracting. but is there any reason we couldn't dress prisoners up in garish color schemes, maybe according to the severity of their crimes?

"you're new in here, aren't you? tax fraud?"

"...yeah, how'd you know what i was in for?"

"they let you keep your suit and tie. anyway, stay away from mad dog murphy, if you know what's good for you."

"w-which one is m-mad dog?"

"see that guy in the rainbow-colored afro wig, lime green polyester suit coat, and pink frilly tu-tu? that's mad dog. killed some nuns or something. oh, and when we line up to leave the yard, don't step on those big floppy shoes he's wearing. that'd be a death sentence. last guy that did that took a custard and whipped cream pie to the face. haven't seen 'em since."

i'm just sayin'.

teed was nice enough to bounce the beeb while mommy and daddy ate. thanks teed!

then, when it was bebe's dinner time, mommy and daddy confused the hell out of her by having daddy feed her just a little bit from his magic boob, also known as a bottle with breastmilk mommy had pumped earlier and warmed up for him. she was a little resistant at first, but food is food right? well, as long as it's mommy or daddy's. never take milk from an unfamiliar teet, bebe!

she was a total champ, and once she finished the little bit that daddy had for her, she was rewarded with the real thing. nothing beats a boob, i always say. and beatrix agrees.