little kid just stood up on the couch, pulled his diaper down, backed his butt into my face, and said, "Bite my butt?" as he cracked up laughing.
As I swatted his butt away and told him how rude that was, Mr. Ashley looked at me and said, "He's "That" guy. You know "That" guy? The one at parties and stuff? That's him."
He's right. I've always known it, but that's the perfect way to describe it. I am raising "That" guy. I will be spending at least the next 16 years (probably more like 28) with "That" guy.
The kind of guy who will stick his naked ass in your face and laugh.
And we've already determined that Big Kid's life plan is to live with me and watch You Tube all day.
No wonder I've had a migraine for the last two days...