he owns us

We were joking before Toby was born that we would own an actual American, and someone pointed out that he would in fact own us. Right, very funny. But today some of that is beginning to show: Emma called me from the mall saying that he won’t let her leave. Every time she got him set to go home he would start crying, so she would have to feed him or change him, and she didn’t want to be driving with him crying, although he usually stops as the movement of the car lulls him to sleep. So she was stranded. Then I realized that I have baby drool on the shoulder of my shirt and have been walking around all day with this. And this is only the start…

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