Meet G and Z

Last week I had the pleasure of meeting not one but two dashing, ridiculously handsome young men. How many women can make such a claim? The proof is in the pudding below.

Exhibit A: Meet Baby G. Baby G wakes up from a restful slumber and can't help but notice a large camera the size of his head angled precariously too close to his face. He's not sure he likes what he sees.

Baby G decides he doesn't like the bloody paparazzi one bit and tries to thwart the photographic agenda of said pap by fidgeting and waving his hands to and fro, thereby producing the blurry shot below. Score one for Baby G.

Baby G and the paparazzi make up, and Baby G celebrates by falling spectacularly asleep on the aforementioned pap's shoulder. Notice his cool stegosaurus hairdo. Brave soul he is for attempting and pulling off what most dare not.

Exhibit B. Meet Baby Z.

Baby Z likes to pretend he's a mummy; he's already displaying a vivid imagination. Not to mention an uncanny knack for playing possum.

Baby Z, like G, can't take the paparazzi and the insanity of it all. More important, he's rocking the owl onesie he scored at his baby shower (given by moi). Like G, Baby Z is pulling off what most--including myself--dare not.

As you can see, I'm pretty smitten with both men. T better watch his back.