Help or Hurt?

It's a crapshoot.


Morning Kids. Yer old pal Scrubbie here... cuppa tea in hand, clean undershorts on, but still bleary-eyed first thing in the mornin'.


So - after yesterday's post where Scrub showed the world how the youngling has crept up vertically to his dear mommy... And... having the Wife include Prozac tablets in her morning bowl of Froot Loops... Scrub thought he should throw up a pic of the Kid in earlier days.






See - Scrub's thinking is... "Look! See! The Kid... ain't THAT much different. Sure... little taller. Sure... doesn't use the soother anymore. Sure... Kitty isn't glued to his widdle tummy 24/7. But... SEE... there's our boy."


The Wife - she ain't seen this yet. Don't think she has seen the previous post either.


So... there are a couple of ways this'll go down.


1. The Wife - gonna give Scrub a hug and comment on how the Kid has grown up and how proud she is of the lad for making it this far. Then, she'll give Scrub those sexy, dreamy eyes and let him know that these past years have been simply wonderful and she's lookin forward to many more to come.


OR


2. The Wife - will go completely over the edge and Scrub'll be hiding in the basement, under the stairs.


Hopefully, the 'ol wireless interweb thingy signal beams down there ok or ya'll never hear from me again.