Pocket checkers and pocket emptiers.

What does this shirt and Chapstick have in common?

Anyone? Anyone? I get the clothes out of the dryer to fold them, and sometimes I encounter a shirt(s) or pants(s) like this. That's right. For nearly 5 years now, this has been one of the top arguments in our house. I. Do. Not. Check. Pockets. If it's strewn on the floor, it's communicating to me that those pants are ready to be washed and that whatever is in them is not important enough to be taken out. I do not accommodate lazy pocket emptiers! I've washed wallets, money (I made $11 the other day doing the wash), temple recommends, gum, credit cards, wallets, money, and wallets. Oh yeah, and Chapstick. Really it's a battle of wills. Brandon is better at everything than me, and he always wins anything we play, and he's rarely wrong, so I figure, if I hold out on this pocket-emptying feud, one day I will win and he will start emptying his pockets. I will prevail. Even if it ruins every piece of clothing I own. It can be done!

Here is Lover, doing what he does best, being naked and showing off his distinct man boobs.

He likes to play with the measuring cups. Sometimes he barfs in them. I just stick them back in the drawer and call it good.

Sometimes I wonder how much an adult would have to drool in the day for their chest and shirt to be completely saturated with saliva.

Do I have something dripping off my chin?

This picture could have so many captions. Perhaps he's enjoying the beat of some gangsta rap.

Maybe he's conducting an orchestra.

Or he's having a spiritual moment.

Or he's closing his eyes to give you a big, wet, slobbery kiss.