“In hind sight, telling him all strangers wanted to eat him wasn’t my finest hour. Having to explain to a bunch of crying children in line to see Santa why my kid was screaming ‘DON’T GO NEAR HIM! HE’LL EAT YOUR FINGERS!’ was no picnic.”

“He was so pretty I wanted to frame him and put him on my nightstand in a totally non-creepy, non-Hannibal Lector skin-suit-wearing kind of way.”

“I just wanted to hear him speak again. His voice made me want to take my pants off.”

“I gained fifty-six pounds when I was pregnant with him. Do you have any idea what it’s like to look down and not be able to see your vagina?”“Uh, no,” I muttered.“My ass had its own zip code.”

“My father had bought him a shirtthat said “Sure you can date my daughter.  In a completely unrelated topic,have you seen my shotgun?”

“Dude, you've been fingering that box in your pocket all this time? I thought you had crabs or something. I was going to let you borrow my cream.”

“Right when my fingers started to slip inside my underwear, I opened my eyes and screamed.     "HOLY SHIT!"     My son stood there next to the bed just staring at me. Seriously, two inches from my face just staring at me like those creepy twins in "The Shining." I waited for him to start saying, "Come play with us" in their freaky twin voices while I tried not to have a heart attack.     "Gavin, seriously. You can't just stand here and stare at mommy. It's weird," I grumbled as I put my hand to my aching head and tried to calm my pounding heart.       Sweet Jesus, who kicked me in the head and shit in my mouth last night?     "You said a bad word, Mommy,”