I know I’ve mentioned that Baby C favors her father, but it’s getting ridiculous. Greg is finally home after a horribly long business trip, and he’s making up for lost time – I have to pry the baby out of his arms just to feed her. He was sporting the Baby Bjorn on a recent shopping trip, and all the saleswomen fell over themselves to coo at the pair of them.
“Oooh, she looks just like her daddy!”
“What a pair of cuties!”
I approached the counter with a dress I wanted to buy. “Wow,” said one of the saleswomen, looking me up and down. “She doesn’t look like you at all.”