I don't know how it's possible, but you manage to get lint waded up in between your fingers and in the creases of your hands like nobody's business. I've made it my mission in life to keep your hands lint-free and is like a full time job. My other full-time job would be to worry too much about you: did he get enough to eat? Is he gaining weight fast enough? Is he cold? Is he hot? Does he have enough stimulation when I zone out in front of PBS instead of interacting with him? Is the massive amount of fruit snacks I eat slowly killing him with red40? This is where another parent comes in handy since Dillon generally just tells me to calm down, offers me a beer and plays loudly and roughly with Levi (as rough as a 3 month old can handle). So thanks hubby! You are the xanex to my neurosis. And if that isn't a compliment, I don't know what is.