Long day at work. Keaton was still asleep when I left for work, and napping when I came home for lunch, so I didn’t even get to see her until I got home at 6pm, and only then for a couple hours. I had a terrible dream about her last night. I dreamed that, all of the sudden, I couldn’t find her. I couldn’t find her, Sharaun couldn’t find her, she was just gone – the feeling was unbearable. Sharaun woke me up, knowing the telltale whimpering which means I’m having a bad dream. “David,” she said, “I think you’re having a bad dream.” “I am,” I mumble, “I can’t find Keaton.” It was one of those dreams where, upon waking in the morning, you still feel the dream… I still felt the loss, fear, panic. I think I know what caused it: about an hour after I put her to bed last night, she woke up and let out a single cry. She does that sometimes, for no reason. Anyway, I think that’s what inspired the dream. Scary.
Well folks, the wait is over. Tonight, I posted the first new batch of photos to Keaton’s gallery since waaaayyy back at Christmas. No, we didn’t get our new camera, Sharaun just had the wherewithal to ask some friends if we could borrow theirs in the meantime. So, without making you wait any longer – here they are: Keaton’s month eleven photos.
The other day, Sharaun struck up an interesting conversation with me as I was undressing to get into the shower. It went something like this:
Her (a bit timid): Hey Babe?
Her: Y’know… I’ve been seeing…
Her: I mean, I’ve been seeing a lot of wieners lately.
Her: You know, wieners. I’ve been seeing a lot lately, on the internet. Not intentionally, but on those gossip websites.
Her: I mean, before you, I’d never seen a wiener before. And these guys… their wieners…
Me: What about them?
Her: They seem pretty big, I mean, flaccid… they seem pretty big… bigger than yours.
Me (a bit defensive): What? You mean like those cheesy naked playing card dudes? Did you see them on that one gay guy’s website? Those cheesy gay flaccid guy photos are all fluffed up. They take those photos during the “softening” process… it’s all exaggerated that way.
Her: No, these weren’t those kind… these were like, from guys with naked roles in movies, or in plays. Someone in a play isn’t getting “fluffed” as they walk around for an entire act.
Me (a bit defeated): No, no they aren’t. Hmmm… that’s distressing. Maybe you should stop looking at other guys’ wieners.
Her: I mean, yours is fine and all, when it’s time for business. I’m just saying…
Me: Stop looking at my wiener.
Her: I mean, it’s plenty big when it needs to be big, I guess it’s just also small when it needs to be small.
Me: Well, I think it’s awesome… and so did plenty of other girls, and it seemed to work OK when I built Keaton.
Her: I know, I love it, I’m just sayin…
Me: Stop looking at my wiener!
Is that totally messed up, or what?
I’d been kicking that story around for a few days, and felt the embarrassment was worth the humor. I guess, since I’m married and able to make babies (not to mention still pull hotties at the club), that I’m cool with my wiener. I mean, I think nine inches is awesome for a flaccid member, and I have no idea what kinda websites my wife is looking at… Hopefully, if I know you in person, the next time you see me you won’t poke fun at me for the small wiener story. I do, however, suspect that this conversation was intended to haunt the me who would ever consider disrobing in front of another female… some sort of cunning confidence-crippling psychological monogamy-handcuffs. And while it didn’t have me scouring the internet for Mangaian sex-herbs, I do seem to catch my little friend in the mirror a bit more than I used to.
So, I guess this is enough on that. Oh, and, for the record, I have a huge penis.
Our friends are having a baby today, seems like a lot of people we know have recently had, or are about to have, or are planning/trying to have, babies. I like that, actually, more birds of a feather with whom we can flock together (or something). Seriously for real though, I like babies, and am glad we have one.