Fat Babies and Good Grades

Milo-milo-sweetsie-pilo. My fatso-boy is not a fan of picture taking. The first one was blurry and he jumped at the flash, therefore was not completely sold on the rest of the photo session. Or perhaps he's upset because his belly hangs over his waistband. My friend Brittany described him as a sack of flour with a head. He is one solid chunk. But looking at scrawny little Tucker, being a solid chunk is a good thing.

Chet received his grades today for this last semester and I couldn't be more proud. Except I was thoroughly disappointed in him that he missed one point in Defensive Tactics. Like seriously. What a complete and utter failure. (justkiddinghoneyyourockandjustbecauseyoumissedonepointi'llstillloveyouandiwon'tteaseyoueekdon'ttickleme!)

He scheduled his POST test for the middle of April. Once he passes that, he can start seriously applying for the six police officer positions that are open in the whole state of Minnesota right now. I know, job prospects look absolutely fantastic. He may as well not hang up his painter clothes as he may be doing that for just a wee bit longer. Either that, or go back to framing, which he so thoroughly enjoyed not. Because this mama is cutting her hours shortly and handing the breadwinner crown to him.

I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend at the Westin in Edina with two of my dearest friends. No husbands or babies can come with me.

It'll be my first time leaving Milo for the night. Eek!

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Real Manly, Chet

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No Fighting, No Biting!

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