Hey Jakey,

Happy Frickin' Fourth of July! Boy, you were a little pill today. The above picture was the best I could get of you today: a blurry shot of you trying to leap from your Papa's lap, while he tries to make a grimace look like a smile.

I was blogging in my head the entire day, full of hatred and vitriol towards life, pregnancy, family and patriotism, but -- at the end of the day -- I'm nothing but tired and mosquito-bitten.

You're out camping with your Nana and Papa tonight. I gave them every "out" possible, telling them that I would bring you home with me and take you back out to them in the morning, but they were convinced that you would calm down and get in the groove and eventually enjoy yourself, so I came home without you, because I have to be at work early tomorrow, and didn't particularly want to show up in the office tomorrow morning with nothing more than a whore's bath and hair that smells of woodsmoke and DEET.

I don't know if this photo relays the perfect *inconvenience* of the entire setup, but here goes:



It's about 75 miles round trip. I'll be making this trip countless times while your Nana and Papa are here. THEY say it's perfect. It's fun, relatively close to town, they're outta our hair, close to both home and my workplace. I say -- it sucks ass. I'm the one who winds up shuttling back and forth every day. Anyway.

Now, of course, I'm deathly worried about you out there, possibly prying yourself away from their arms, getting lost in the woods, staring down bears, floating down the raging river, charming the rattlers. Ack.

Okay. Love you lots, please be good and mind your grandparents.