MY BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER WITH HER ADORBS BABY, PIGGLY WIGGLY
Moments after this was taken, she probably took a picture of some random dude's butt crack.
Sometimes when I'm feeling maudlin
|MY DAUGHTER TEXTED ME THIS PIC OF SOME POOR RANDOM BASTARD |
captioned: "Topless guy taking a well-deserved 9 a.m. break. Or is he shitting his pants?"
The nature-versus-nurture debate pretty much ends here, folks.
Because although she is dealing with a high-needs baby and almost zero hours of sleep, she somehow finds time to go for walkabouts at 9 a.m. and take pictures of innocent citizens who ought to be goddam ashamed of themselves (above). And then send them to me via text because she is awesome. I mean seriously. We're talking invasion of privacy, subterfuge, negligence, mockery, disrespect, cruel humour ... it's ... omigod, I'm crying. I'm actually crying tears of unbridled maternal pride and joy and relief. Whorrified will never die! Whorrified will live on! And perhaps even scale new heights of snarkasm, thanks to the fruit of my sordid loins. The only thing that could make this spiritual moment more fulfilling would be if God personally assured me that Piggly Wiggly will pick up where her mother leaves off. Which, considering the almost textbook-whorrific way she's being raised, doesn't really seem too unlikely.
|THE HEIR TO THE SNARKASM THRONE, A.K.A. PIGGLY WIGGLY, |
being groomed for the job in the only way we know how: Hooker wigs.