Husband, don't freak out when you read this

I am currently experiencing a very dramatic baby/puppy/cute things in general phase. The slightest provocation of cuteness can set me off. I met a friend's puppy the other day and nearly swallowed its cuteness whole. I literally had to restrain myself from burying my face in its fur. In the same five minutes that I met the puppy, my friend's two year old niece plopped herself into my lap and handed me a picture book to read to her. People, there was a spontaneous combustion of cuteness. The cuteness threatened to mushroom cloud and cover us all in pink bows and candy sprinkles. I wanted to grab them both and run away to Mexico, where would we would laugh and roll and kiss and read picture books for the next 20 years.

Given my propensity to cuteness, I was completely taken in by the number of babies at Panera today during lunch. Apparently, Panera is Cute Baby Central. I wanted to gather all the cute babies on one of the couches and pinch their adorable arm fat one by one. Several of the cute babies were screaming and wailing, but it didn't really phase me. I could hear other diners complaining about the screaming and wailing over their soup and sandwiches, but I found myself mesmerized by the cuteness of the screaming and wailing. Like, what a cute little baby scream! That cute little baby just needs me to roll it around on the floor, smooshing its baby fat like pizza dough, then we'll run away to Mexico, laughing and rolling and kissing and reading picture books.

That's how you know that you are NOT ready to have children. Sane people just don't respond to screaming infants with pizza dough similies.