Ross informed me this morning that he had a baby dream. From what I understand (since I didn't have the dream myself) the baby had been born. He doesn't know if it was a boy or girl, nor did it have a name. However, Ross was feeding the baby fist full of under-cooked meat. And apparently I was not okay with this.
Ross would also talk to the baby. "Hi baby, do you love Daddy?"
And the baby would reply, clear as day, "Yes, I do love Daddy."
Well, such a momentous milestone had to be shared so Ross called for me to check it out and all the baby would do for me when I arrived is goo like a baby and barf. "Sure, Ross . . ."
Then he tried again to talk to the baby. "Hi!"
Baby says, "Hi!"
"CLARE!!!!!"
I come again but this time the baby just coos and poops.
Poor Ross. I don't believe him, and the baby isn't cooperating to prove it. And all I do is roll my eyes at him. Poor, poor, Ross.
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