Getting Into The Swing Of Things

Shh... please don't tell anyone, but I think my mom is trying to torture me... Not in a mean, physical way, but in this mental way, where I might have scars from it for the rest of my life - or at least when I go on my first date and she breaks out the photos and videos.

First of all, she always puts me in these cutesy clothes. Like when we went to a baby shower last Saturday and she kept showing off my "pumpkin butt" to all the guests. I mean, it was a shower for me afterall. If I had to be surrounded by a bunch of girls, why couldn't she have put me in something manly??

Then, later this week she tried to make me dance. And not to something cool like Justin Timberlake - oh no - she made me dance to Billy Joel. From the 80s. I'm like, "um, Mom, I wasn't even born in the 80s!!" (And what's the deal with the pants??)

Today, she put me into this swing, and the verdict is still out on this. I think it's torture, but then some part of me thinks that maybe I will enjoy this one day. Today however, I couldn't decide if I liked it, or if I was going to lose my lunch.