Vaya Con Dumbass

Johnny and I have recently been tempted to go to Pensacola.

I mean, REALLLLLLLY tempted. There will be another cute, delicious baby there, and two big fun kids, and a lot of the people I love in one place. I am dying to go. Dying.

But I'm a little nervous. It seems like a big deal to fly solo with the little guy. What if he beasts out? How do I change his diaper on a plane? What if we sit next to the person with Tuberculosis or something? And then when we get there, what if he won't sleep or nap? What if he's allergic to the sun? What if I lose my luggage containing the four thousand bottles, diapers, toys, wipes, washcloths, bibs, and socks that I'll have to pack? How will I bathe him?

What about the car seat and the stroller and the Bjorn? What about the routine? What if he suddenly, miraculously starts walking and reciting the Declaration of Independence while we're there? T will miss it! What if he becomes a Republican while in Pensacola? Is it contagious?

Is it just that I'm a wimp? Ugh. I'll let you know what we decide. Meanwhile, Johnny is still weighing the pros and cons his ownself.:



What to do, what to do.