Parental Retribution

I am going to write a recap of The Killing from last night (good stuff) once I finish the last fifteen minutes of the second episode, but first...

It's a good thing that a certain 14 lb. strawberry blonde hunk of meat has a sweet and smiley disposition because she has made it impossible for me to leave her.  
Baby Sweet Smiles has recently decided that she's too good for a bottle.  
I tried to go out on Saturday night.  I never go out.  John and I had had plans for weeks, maybe months.  I was going to head out after the Butler game (Go Dawgs!) to celebrate and eat and end up in my most favorite-est place in all of Chicago -- Lincoln Karaoke, which is right across the street from Latin Bliss, which I believe (correct me if I'm wrong here) received a two star Michelin rating.
But as soon as we pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, my mom called to tell me that Baby Sweet Smiles had woken up and would not take her bottle.  So I had to go home.  I fed her, watched some of the UConn game, finished the abomination against television that was the Grey's Anatomy musical episode, and went to bed.  No karaoke.  No fun.  No fair.
So, I just want to let Little Miss Lady know that if she's going to attach herself to me during her first year of life while I try to maintain some semblance of a social life, I will do the same to her when she's 16.  I can't wait to go to the homecoming dance. 

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