Dear #$%! Baby.

On the morning of November 1st, less than 12 hours after we discovered you, I noticed two little red bumps on my outer hip. They were close together and even in size. Either I was attacked by a teeny tiny vampire or a spider bit me sometime during the night. And you know what? It better have been a @#%* spider. We don’t need any batshit crazy pale skinned mini sparkly ass vampires in this world. You hear me? If you come out a freaky vamp I will have to lock you in your room forever and slide pancakes under the door.

You better be some awesome looking strong superhero monster spider that’s 405% better than Spiderman who will eat sparkly idiot vampires and save the world from all its impending doom. Hurricanes. Firestorms. Meteors. Zombies. Cloud Demons. Ross Perot. Because that would kick serious ass. And then I could sell the rights to your story and you’d be totally major famous but in a good way and the whole family could splurge on shoes. Awesome shoes. Just please don’t actually LOOK like a spider. I’m not a fan of that.