Wednesday, August 28, 2013

My Baby, The Dictator

It's true.

She rules with a teeny, tiny iron fist.

There is no negotiating with her, no reasoning - her word is the final word. Er... well, rather her coos, cries and screams are the final coos, cries and screams.

Pleading is futile. Begging will get you nowhere.

She is drunk on power. (Technically "power" means "breast milk" in this instance)

She came into her powerful role by means of excessive force and violence (via my... well, you know).

Just stare into her fierce blue eyes and dare not bow down to her adorableness.

She mocks you by sticking out her tongue.

You are welcome.


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  1. Hmmm. That third word tells the whole story. It's all we guys need to know about how things work.

  2. awww she's beautiful, stephanie! how adorable :) you sure make a good baby.

  3. She's gorgeous! Totally worth it, amirite?

  4. I drowned. I admit it. I drowned in her adorableness. So. Much. Adorable.

  5. She is so gorgeous. And she will rule your world your whole life


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