This afternoon, the little Bradshaw family drove out to scenic Puckett, Mississippi ("300 good friendly folks!" chirps the official town sign), for the annual Bradshaw holiday luncheon. These are relatives on Brian's father's side of the family, and we rarely see them (save for Sweet Aunt Janet and Uncle Luke) except for around the holidays.
Every year since Brian and I have been married, I've been asked one question when I attend this luncheon. "When are you guys going to have a baby?" This went on for six years. Last year, when I had finally produced a baby, Brian was OUT OF TOWN ON BUSINESS for this event. So I finally had a baby to show off, and we didn't go to the luncheon. So this year, I was AT LAST able to take booger out to Puckett so everyone could see that I can, in fact, reproduce.
Hubs and I dressed him in a little camo outfit (Hubs thought camo would go over well, considering the Puckett demographics.), and we headed out. I triumphantly entered the house, holding a gorgeous little blonde-haired, blue-eyed child who smiled and babbled and allowed himself to be held by relatives. Everyone fawned over him.
For about five seconds. Then they asked, "So, when are you having another one?" They followed this query with observations such as, "He'll be awfully lonely without any brothers or sisters," and "Taking care of two or three is nearly as easy as taking care of one!" (Riiiight. I'll be sure to call YOU at 3 a.m. when kid #2 is awake and wanting to be rocked. So, is that a 601 number?)
Anyhoo, we DID have fun. The food is always reallyreally good (Though we always have tons of mashed potatotes, macaroni and cheese, hashbrown casserole, and dressing. Would it KILL us to bring a green vegetable once in a while? I'm going to remember that for next year.), and the company's nice, too. After eating WAY too much, we trundled home, where we all passed out in carb-induced comas and laid around like beached whales for the rest of the day. Oooof.