Falling In Love

… with everything: my niece, my guy, my family, my friends… hell, even camping. I loved camping. Everything is awesome right now.

I wish I had waited until after 3 Cheers for the Weirs to start this daily blogging, but heck, maybe linking to it every day will be more effective. I’ll write about it next week. That and The Spot.

Also, you would never see me if I didn’t daily blog because I am too busy having a giggle contest with my niece 24/7. Everyone keeps remarking that she really likes me, and you wouldn’t believe how great that makes me feel. Last night I busted out my two chipmunk voices. She loved it. I’m gonna be good at this.

OH and here’s how you automatically become the best Auntie in the world – date a guy who has puppets.

Justin met my whole family and they LOVE him. Even my sister-in-law! I know! My brother thinks he’s way cool. I’m pretty sure this is the first boyfriend he’s ever met.

Justin comes with me to hang out with my dad sometimes, which means so much to us and is basically the coolest thing a boyfriend could do. Tuesday night they had “Pet Therapy” so all these giant dogs wandered in to play with my dad.

I always kiss my dad on his forehead. This time he said, “Don’t kiss me, Justin.”

And Justin said, “I’ll try to contain myself, sir.”

I think this fall is going to be the best fall.

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

One response to “Falling In Love

  1. Erin

    Clearly, Justin is only dating you to get closer to your dad. And of course your niece likes you. You’re small, you have a charming voice, and CHIPMUNKS. That shit is baby gold.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s