New Baby Egbert and a bike ride

Did you know that New Baby Egbert is now the size of a small fruit. (Apples this week.) Which is positively thrilling.

If New Baby Egbert is a girl, she's full of her own eggs to someday make her future babies with - assuming she didn't inherit her mother's inability to do stuff with eggs - which is sortof a miracle.

But if New Baby Egbert is a boy, he can squash mosquitoes for me since all of his joints and limbs are fully functioning - that would really come in handy about now.

Which reminds me, one time last week Josh and I took Tommy for a bike ride.

It was the sickest most disgusting bike ride I think I've ever been on. Ever. We were riding Legacy, which just so happened to be infested with tiny flying creatures. Mosquitoes and gnats and horseflies OH MY!!!

You know how sometimes you're walking around and you see this disgustingly enormous swarm of mosquitoes and you think to yourself "Why must they all fly so close together? What a disgusting swarm of filthiness!" Picture that, for a solid mile. Not because the swarm smelled fresh blood and followed us, but because the swarm was a mile big.

Seriously. Like this.

For a solid mile.

Josh and I were unprepared to ride through them, so we hacked and coughed and spit mosquitoes out of our mouths the whole way. I listened to them hitting my helmet sounding exactly like a rainstorm in the car. I felt them flying down my shirt, biting my bare-naked legs and buzzing in my ears. 

Before long I founds myself breathing like Michael Phelps, sucking air over my shoulder, then blowing it out HARD in front of me, somehow believing that if I blew hard enough they'd migrate South for the Summer. Or North. Or dead. Whatever. 

Once when one flew in my eye, I thought we should stop while I got it out, but at that exact moment another one flew in my mouth and I started gagging on it, which meant I couldn't stop because gagging causes involuntary inhaling, and I simply couldn't inhale out-of-control while I was surrounded. 

We peddled on. Because we're hardcore you know. 

And when we finally slowed down enough to talk to each other we compared battle-scars. Josh caught 2 in one eye and one in the other (no sunglasses for him). We each swallowed more than we admitted. I was bitten 2 or 3 times on each leg. Neither of us knows how long we washed them out of our hair, and both of our shirts were plastered with bug-guts and hitchhikers. 

So yeah, if NBE is a boy and will take up Olympic mosquito-swatting, I'll be thrilled. And if NBE is a girl and takes up baby-making (once she's old enough to know that boys exist - like when she's 20), I'll be thrilled. 

In other news: I tackled Tommy and cut his hair. You know those poor little boys you always felt bad for because it looked like someone took a weed-whacker to their heads? Tommy = those boys. But it's his fault for not holding still. Don't let the innocent face fool you.