Guest Blogger: I give you Joe Loveless

[I have been sitting here for the past 45 minutes unable to come up with what I want to write about.  And then I looked to my left.  All the most rockin’ blogs use the best trump card when they ain’t got nuthin to say.  What is this trump card, you ask:  Guest Blogger.  Thus, comes the inspiration from my left.  Joe is sitting to my left and I am going to let him guest blog.  He told me he would but only if I let him post without seeing what he is writing.  It’s a risky play but I am going to hand this one over to my loving husband.  Joe, take it away:]

Thanks Catie,
I would like to take this moment to share with readers what its like to have Catie as a pregnant wife. Now, I cannot compare her to my other pregnant wife’s, because that just wouldn’t be fair. Instead, I will give you my rookie, first time father opinion. First question: Is it really necessary to take so many pictures of your belly? This is probably my fault, because of the amount of times I comment on how freakin cute she is, because really, she is the cutest pregnant lady I have ever seen. In fact before her, I had never seen a pregnant lady and thought…. wow, thats a good lookin pregnant lady. But come on! My photo-booth gallery is getting clogged with Catie belly photos. 
Now, you might be privately thinking, “wow, how conceded she must be to be taking all these pictures of herself. I know, I was thinking the same thing. Then I started looking through the rest of my photo library, and you know what I found…

Ok, so maybe she is not so bad after all. Gosh, cut her some slack… and anyone else who loves to stare at themselves in the viewfinder to say “cheese”. 

Now, she is pregnant and has some sort of a cop out for taking all of those photos. So what is my excuse? I am still working on that. Maybe its that I get lonely, so I to take a picture of myself and pretend I am hanging out with my twin. Maybe its that I think when other people are in a picture with me, they cramp my style. Not really sure, but I would like to hear your prognosis. What is the psychological reasoning behind me taking pictures of myself in random places, with no purpose?


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