A Little Bit of Spit Up, or How He Loves

I just walked into the bathroom and caught a look at myself in the mirror.  My blue shirt has the familiar discoloration of baby spit up.  It reminded me of when my oldest son was a newborn and I took him to Starbucks with me to collect a paycheck.  The girls I worked with couldn't… Continue reading A Little Bit of Spit Up, or How He Loves