It's six thirty-ish Monday night.
Brody: Mom are you going somewhere? Me: Yep, I have to go out for a little bit but Daddy's staying here. Why do you ask? Cause I have a bra on and covered up my breakouts? Cause I out of my swimsuit? Come on, which one is it?
Me: They are all ready for bed, just need to brush their teeth. Love you! Oh, hey, wanna take a couple pictures before I leave?
Caleb: Sure, it's only 97 degrees out.
I set up the camera settings for my man to work his magic (?) He is the test subject and he loves it. So much.
Okay, I'm ready. Here you go.
He just keeps clicking, with WORK IT shouted out from time to time. All of these pictures happen within a matter of two minutes and twelve seconds. Our neighbors stare on over at us, like they do every day, wondering what the H is going on.
Don't let those fashion bloggers fool, I know what they're hiding:
Dead arm problems.
This bag is so heavy. I'm not kidding.
Itch on my nose.
Hair in mah face.
Are you remembering to focus the camera on me? Or else they will be blurry. Babe?
Maybe this would have been cute if I was pregnant and it wasn't blurry. But I'm not and it is. Please also take note of my front of legs tan vs. the back of my legs tan.
I whip my hair.
All fashion bloggers must.look.down.
Love you, babe. I'll be home around nine.
That's a wrap.