1. Out of every five pictures of your baby, if you could just post one where it isn’t smeared with some sort of unidentifiable (or identifiable, for that matter) goo, I would be most grateful.
2. Maybe less pictures of your newborn stuffed into something: a basket, a pumpkin, a horn-of-plenty. Your “photographer” neighbor, Donna, isn’t Anne Geddes (who is terrible anyway).
3. But anytime you want to dress your baby up as a vegetable, I’m totally down with that. It’s fucking adorable. Especially when they’re a pea-pod. Oh. My. God.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call’d him soft names in many a musèd rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod.