Boy's Night,

Don't tell Megan (aka Mommy).

Megan had her first night out.  She went out with a couple friends from for some well earned Margaritas.  No girls in the house?  Party til you puke!... Or at least until you spit up a little bit.  It was my first time all alone with Milo.  Megan's been in the other room before, but not out of the house.  She left me with Milo's dinner, second dinner, and, in an emergency, third dinner, freshly pumped, labeled and dated in the fridge. 

Well, let's just say this party got underway when Milo finished the first bottle.  That boy cannot handle his milk.  I didn't realize his tolerance was so low.  Milo basically passed out, totally milk-drunk, right on the floor.  He woke up a few times for some rounds of change-the-diaper and I'm-sick-of-tummy-time-already-daddy-geez.  Overall, no (permanent) injuries, plus this incriminatingly adorable (adorably incriminating?) picture.

Milo, buddy, know your limit