Turning Eleven...

So, Billy and I turn eleven on Friday. 

I mean, our marriage turns eleven.

Here's a funny card I got him one year:

A guy confusedly...

Wow. Confusedly - I'm kinda surprised spell check didn't bust me on that one.

...looks around in the grocery store.

Clearly he is uncomfortable and out of his element.

When you open the card you see this:

You know you've been married for awhile when you start buying cards with these type references in them.

And while I'm being graphic...

Or while the card is being graphic...

Tonight I got asked how far along I was.

As in enciente, bun in the oven, ready to pop one out...

The problem with that is that I'm not pregnant. 

At all. 

People...

Let's just make a blanket statement that unless the baby is crowning we are not going to ask anyone if they are pregnant. 

Um kay?

Is that too much to ask?

I think not. 

Seriously. 

How many horror stories are we going to have to hear before you stop asking.

Alright, bygones.

Let's get back to turning eleven.

My hair was big that day. 

Awww....our invitations. 

I loved them.

Ignore the baby with her hair in her face.

Sheesh, someone get that baby a barrette.

We had a dessert Reception.

Yum. 

Let's not talk about desserts though.

That probably wouldn't help with the whole 'are you with child' thing.

So...happy eleventh to me, my husband and our three NOT four kids.