Kids v. Dogs

So, it's no surprise that Brad and I don't really want kids. And by 'don't really want' I am nicely saying that Brad says if I accidentally got pregnant, he would punch me in the stomach.
OK, that sounds much harsher than it actually is. I mean he has said that, but it's definitely more on the joking side. Originally, he wanted three kids, I wanted two. Then my sister and nephew moved into our neighborhood and we quickly agreed on one. But as he stayed with us more, we began to tinker with the idea of none. So, we got the dogs. 

Above, Phoebe (back before she put on a little weight) 

and below, Presley, back when he was just a ball of fur. 

We thought that would either ease us in or put an end to that all together. Of course the second happened. And we put the final nail in the coffin that is our mothers' dreams for grandkids.
So this past weekend, we went to our friends house. They have two kids. Who are both really sweet. The whole family is. I had taken over the kitchen, Heather was at another function and on her way, and Scotty needed to go check on the grill. So who got to hold Aiden?

Brad.

And this face was priceless, so I had to snap a pic.  I don't think my husband had ever held a baby.  He literally didn't know what to do.  He's is more familiar with the furry babies we choose to keep.

I mean, who wouldn't love coming home to this every day?