So tonight we were engaging in a little game of family Crazy Eights after dinner.
BioMom had this Back To The Future moment thinking about how this past January we played Canasta with her parents night after night during our little Florida getaway, and then projecting into the future, thinking about how we might be able to play with our kids.
Anyway, in the middle of it, I recognized that little gleam in Ten's eye that tells us that she needed (needs, will need soon) to go #2.
Me: Do you need to go [#2]?
She: NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Flabbergasted and appalled at the mere question!)
But this conversation reminded Big that he, did, indeed, have to go #2, in fact.
He got distracted along the way, however, and returned to essentially auction off the right to, well, to wipe him afterward.
He comes out pointing back and forth with his little finger: Eenie, meenie, miny, mo! BioMom and I hoping, each of us, that "My Mama said that you. Are. The. Very. Best. One." won't land on us.
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