Okay, we've tried seemingly everything: walking, rocking, stretching, lunging, squatting, breast stimulation, evening primrose, intercourse, membrane sweeping, even pineapples . . . the boy just doesn't want to get out.
I tried another tactic this evening. (Habanero) spicy, bad, Mexican food. Any food with the title "El Diablo" as a prefix isn't going to be good:
I don't think it made Lizz feel very good:
I think it might have been hot:
At least hot enough to use sour cream as a lip-balm:
And a tortilla as a tongue-scraper:
Once again, proof of my love for my wife.