Go Hogs

So in one of my many pregnancy/childbirth/newborn books (you can never have too many) I am advised to pack large T shirts to wear in the hospital. The problem is that, well, nothing fits anymore. All the big T shirts are too, too small. Enter mom and her wonderful care packages! Thanks to my mom Dave can be seen rocking Razorback wear all over Portland. Note to mom, though: DMB may be my Big Dutch Husband, but he's not a size XXXL, so I found this brand-spanking-new Hog shirt languishing in his dresser drawer.

This has saved me a trip to Target, and the hospital bag is now packed!

Baby, you may be a quarter Dutch, but you're half Arkansan. Wooo, pig sooiee!

In other news, today was my last pre-baby birthday! It's really good to be alive. I hauled in some good loot and some post-baby wardrobe funds, plus The Illustrated Strunk and White, but more than anything I was just reminded that I couldn't ask for better family and friends.

Plan to see nothing but improvements in my grammar/sentence structure from here on out. First question: can T-shirts really languish?