|Seriously, I have no clue.|
I have no idea why I called her "g". So anyways, here is why I was texting myself.
I was dreaming that I was at my boyfriends work (only it looked nothing like where he actually works) and wearing my cut off shirt. My boobs were kinda big, I guess because I'm nursing and at the time in my sleep I could feel how full they were. Anywho, I walked through this crack in the door to get to my kid, and I had to walk past the boyfriend's coworker. The boyfriend's coworker said "Nice Crumb tray". Talking about my boobies. LoL. And then I woke up and remembered a comment my boyfriend made earlier.
He was downstairs, watching our 6month old, while I was cleaning the bathroom, upstairs. I was gettin my scrub on, and I hear "Babyyy!" So my natural instinct is to be like "WHAT!?" And he was trying to get me to help him, because our daughter had pooped. I was like, psh, handle it. When I came back downstairs, from cleaning the toilet and whatnot, I said "Did you change her?" and he replied "Yes, and I got POOP on my hand!" Oh really. Poop. Baby poop, at that. I should have said, "Aw, you got innocent baby poop on your hand? Well let me tell you what I got on mine!" "I had my head practically in a bowl of your pee and poop, and your pee and poop is NOT innocent, I just scrubbed all of your facial hairs and toothpaste off of the sink AND had to stick my hands in a tub, where all of your sweat, daily body dirt, and foot particles make a sort of gross soup!" But I didn't say that. I didn't think about it until later.
Yes, these are the things that cross my mind at 2am.