It's inevitable; I've taken one photo of him for about every fifty I took of her at the same stage. It's not that I don't love you the same, I tell him, I'm just too exhausted running around after your sister. This one is a few weeks into life. I love the way his hands flutter around like they have a life of their own.
e.e.: "e! can you turn it down a notch? i'm trying to sleep here!"
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