I have a funny story. I went to yoga last night and one of my favorite people was there. He is a nice guy, about my dad's age, and he just loves Tyler and I. Mostly Tyler. He messes with him on Facebook, and he's just a very loving person. So amidst lots of people (the classes are huge in January) asking how I'm doing and how the baby is doing and what is the baby's name, etc. this guy says rather loudly across the room, "Hey, Shannon, how many stitches did you get?" Shocked, and with a weird smile I let out a short laugh and said "... none.." as I looked away. About thirty seconds later he sort of crawled toward my mat and said, "... Shannon, I was talking about your finger, but I realize now that my question was a little out of context." He had read my facebook status about slicing my finger on a dried tomato on the side of a salsa jar. I laughed so hard. Then I told him I was glad he has clarified. I mean, PEOPLE ASK THAT QUESTION. But it's usually not nice men.

We've had some good nights lately. And good days. Today is a day where I'm still in PJs and haven't brushed my teeth. My phone is dead. And Leon is sleeping on me.

Tonight I'm going to go get a beer with my friend Allison. I haven't told Tyler that yet. But I think I need it, and he will certainly oblige that. I'm going to explode conversation. I might have to put my hand over my mouth. I'm quiet all day! Weird. Tyler read to Leon last night and he fell asleep. I need to do that.

One of my greatest fears is that all I will be able to talk about with my friends is sleep patterns and colors of baby poop and fussy times. I have a lot of goals. Maybe too many. One of them is to maintain normal adult conversation about things besides baby poop. I'll talk about my poop, but not baby poop :)

Well, the child stirs. Off I go.

Also, we've been watching Justified, and I have never wished so much that I was a hick. But the kind of hick that speaks eloquently, the way Raylen Givens does. We love that show.