Sunday, February 28

Operation: Repopulation!

Pay no attention to the cleavage Mama Ging is sporting, as apparently the title of "Grandmama" is causing a slight mid-life crisis.

But I see the beautiful tint of Ging to the Little Man's hair in this picture. Could it be??? Another Ging in the family? If so, welcome, welcome, welcome to the club. Yes, assholes will tease you in elementary school, junior high, and potentially in high school. But just think, you're not some boring-ass brunette or blonde. Those are a dime a dozen. We're a dying breed. Walk with pride.

This message was paid for by a Ging. By no means does she harbor true ill thoughts of non-Gings. There's just got to be some pride somewhere for having zero ability to tan, the exciting game of connect-the-freckles, and the fact that we survived the Salem Witch Trials. No Gings were harmed in the making of this blogpost.


  1. Ok. First of all there is no cleavage whatsoever showing in that pic. I had a sweater on and laying on top of my sweater, is a burp rag. Most of which you are seeing in the pic. That small amount of "cleavage" is actually my sweater. So there, goof ball. But I second the idea that there's a hint of "ging". In fact, I noticed that as I watched the little man go from the birthing room up to the NICU. Only time will tell, I guess. GO GING.

  2. May the ging be with him.

    21 days til race day. What the hell were we thinking?