Oh Ashlee, you were so cute when you were just a little baby bun. Back when I thought you were a boy. And your name was Ash. Now you’re so chubby that you get stuck inside soup pots.

The bun turned one today. She was six weeks old that fateful weekend when I got her at the end of March, and by that logic, her birthday is sometime this weekend. I’ve decided to make it on Valentine’s Day, because well, it’s easier to remember.

Heading up to Albany this weekend to celebrate Valentine’s Day with Heather. Can’t wait.

And to everyone who hates on Valentine’s Day, just shush. Sure, we should show the people we love how much we care about them everyday of the year, but your reasoning just doesn’t work. That’s like saying we should celebrate Christmas everyday, because we all should show our love for Jebus through our the year. Or Easter. Or St Patrick’s Day. Or Thanksgiving. Or Boxing Day, whatever the hell that is.

If we celebrated each of those holidays every single day of the year, we’d be broke from buying too many presents, stepping on eggs all over the damn place, drunk off our asses, extremely obsese, and then depressed because we’ve been  giving away all the presents we recieved. Society would crumble, the world would be in shambles.

So do your part, and celebrate Valentine’s Day, damn it.