Before I go on with this story there is something you need to know: I am obsessed with Z's bum. I think it is the cutest butt in the whole wide world and I don't care who knows it. If he didn't have such an adorable face I'd have to call his bum his best feature. Z is well aware of my love for his backside. He thinks it's normal (poor child), and now pretty much requires that we take note of his junk in the trunk as often as possible. Just about every time we change his clothes, he runs around the house shouting, "Look-a-bum! Look-a-bum!" If someone is not paying it appropriate attention he will get in their face and make them take note: "Daddy! DADDY! Look-a-bum!" (Don't act like your family doesn't do weird stuff like this. You know you do.)
So. Back to the birthday parties. As the cake is being passed out, I get a text from J:
Yep, apparently he just walked up a stranger and gave her a little love tap. Which
But seriously, tell me: how could you NOT be obsessed with this?
P.S. Yes, we are trying to teach Z that it's only OK to talk about / touch / obsess over buns at home. :)