First of all, holy hormones, Batman.
These fertility drugs are no joke. For those of you who don’t know us personally, and haven’t already figured this out: my husband is a SAINT.
I’m like a wild, potentially rabid, animal. If, you know, a sign of rabies is hysterical bursts of crying. No? Well… then I’m just a lunatic.
Oh, but speaking of wild, crazed animals!
A friend of mine sent me a link to Animals Being Dicks, which is a great site to waste large sums of time — particularly if you’re a fan of animals being adorable, or kind of gross, but mainly jerks.
These were some of my favorites:
Ladies with wigs? Consider yourselves warned.