On Why I Am a Baby Giraffe

But first: I have only officially had this blog for a day, but I have already:

  • Updated the header (and love it!)
  • Updated the fonts (because I HATE Times New Roman and all of the other horrible squarey fonts.  Yes, squarey is a word).  However, given that you have to see the fonts as well, please tell me if you absolutely hate the fonts and it would deter you from continuing to read, because the last thing I want is to drive away good readers.  (If you suck as a reader, I don’t care what you think.)
  • Posted thrice!  (The “Bear With Me” post counts, right?)
  • Updated my About page (but only because my site stats say that people were going there and I felt wrong having there be nothing there)
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I’m Apparently #1 at Husband-Pantsing

So, I guess this is the best forum to air my addiction.

I have a pantsing problem.

Actual conversation with my (poor, poor) husband:

Husband: *in the kitchen, innocently surveying the contents of the pantry in his boxers*

Me:  [internally: Oooh…] *yanks boxers to Husband’s knees*

Husband:  *huffily pulling his boxers back up, glaring at me with disdain and faintly looking like he is a chubby kid who just got pantsed by the bully at the bus stop* WTF, Taylor.

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