I’ve been at my parent’s house all weekend and have barely held my own son the whole time. I’m not complaining, it’s an amazing experience to use both my hands at the same time, and it’s exactly why there’s a comic posted today. Every time I break out my ink pen I’m always in love with inking and swear I should do it more often, but then we end up back with the digital version. I’m addicted to ctrl-z.

At any rate, Taco Truck revealed to us his superhero identity this weekend. His namesake, Grandad Mike, got a nice armful of teh pewps when he picked up the baby and it all squished out all over him.

I know I promised on twitter I wouldn’t overshare about the baby poops, but if anyone actually believed I’d be able to keep to that promise, well, I guess that’s the real joke here.

(I’m trying, though, you guys. Dealing with a newborn is a wonderland of amazing and gross things and I want to share it all because it’s super-crazy, but I’m trying to draw the line at poop. Poop updates are for immediate friends and family only. Count your blessings)