One plate down, and just beginning our second, the conversation sounds something like this:
Me: "Oof...I'm stuffed already. Everything's pushing up on my stomach...I eat too much and it makes me sick, I eat too little and it makes me sick."
BigB: "I think that these symptoms you're having are psychosomatic."
Me: "What? You think I'm imagining things? Like what exactly?"
BigB: "Ya know...like the sore boobs, and the queasy stomach, and the farting."
Me: "So...you think I'm making these things up?"
BigB: "Well....yeah. I think those things come later...it's still so early."
Me: "And how would you know? Have you had lots of experience with pregnant women?"
BigB: "At work - there's been a few women."
Me: "And they don't talk to you about their sore boobs and farting? Hmmm...imagine that."
I wanted to shove his $18 venison bites up his nostrils. But not before I strung him up by his toenails and read (aloud) to him every chapter of "What to Expect" in anannoying sing-song mickey mouse voice.
Tomorrow is our first OB appointment. I'm excited and scared, of course. But I am trying to take things one day at a time.
4 comments:
Good luck for your OB appt!...and it's better you didn't shove the 18dollar venison bites up his nostrils, doesn't sound like there were too many of them to go around!
Best Wishes for a Great appointment! Cute story, he'll learn.
GL tomorrow! I can't wait to hear good news from ya!
Men! They know everything! How many times have they been pregnant, I ask you.
Fancy resturants and their 2 bites of food!
Ha! If he thinks it's bad now, just wait! He'll be wishing you had shoved those venison bites in his nose (as the gas gets worse), or in his ears (for the snoring when all your mucous membranes swell up).
Good luck with the OB!
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