Yesterday, for real, I experienced that imagined idyllic moment when you hold your baby on your hip while watering your freshly-planted flowers and think to yourself, "Ah, here I am with my baby and my flowers! Just call me Mother Nature! Ah...spring."
Except that midway through the watering, Elliot reached down and pulled a snapdragon out by its roots, and while I yelled (i totally yelled) "no! NO!" at my (unfortunately still pre-verbal) child and tried to climb over the garbage bag on my porch to put down the watering can without dropping either my child or my watering can, Elliot began to whack the drippy muddy snapdragon roots against my white tank-top covered boob.
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