Happy Father's Day!

Mr Lemon
I was a little on the pregnant-edge yesterday. Lots of little things got on my nerves. Mr Lemon asked me what was wrong, and I just couldn't put my finger on it. (Sorry, babe.)

One thing that got on my nerves made me laugh a little while later. We were in Babies 'R Us looking at all that STUFF that marketing tells us babies need when all of a sudden ...

"Stop.It."

"What's wrong, Mrs Lemon?"

"All.Three.Of.You.Are.Humming.A.Different.Song. Zesty can't stop, but you two can."

It made me laugh later because as much as Zesty looks like me, he and Splenda are Daddy made over.

Thank you, hon, for giving me a family. The four of us (almost five!) have our quirks and quibbles, but I would not trade it for all the time, sleep, and spotless carpets in the world.

You are the greatest. I asked you last night how you got suckered into buying a whole outfit for Splenda when I just happened to pass a shirt I thought would be cute on her. I know how. It's just in your nature to give things to those you love. You want to buy me a really expensive bassinet just because you know I like the stripes on the fabric.

You're the first person everyone in our home wants to see every morning. Nobody does stuff like Dad! Dad! Dad!

(That's an inside joke. By the way, good job explaining what "inside joke" means to Splenda yesterday. She still didn't get it.)

I recall one of my first impressions of you was that you had sad eyes, but I don't see that anymore. Now I see that they are father's eyes. I love you so much.

Daddy
I just have one thing to say ... "Happy Father's Day, Poop."

(Please post a picture of that card so no one thinks I'm being disrespectful)