Oct
9
October 9, 2007
Last night I tried to wheedle JB into going to the store for me. “Mmmph,” he said discouragingly. “What do you want?”
“Some swiss cheese, the super-thinly deli sliced kind because if it’s really thin then swiss cheese is tangy and awesome but if it’s thick-cut it smells like feet, you know? I also want some dill pickles but they have to be spears, not the full pickles or the half-cut pickles or those godawful poker-chip-sized slices, spears. Oh and a frozen carrot cake. A Mrs. Smith brand carrot cake,” I answered.
He just shook his head. “No,” he said, then in anticipation of what I was going to say: “Not even if you Google Image those things, no.”
Who are these husbands running to the store at all hours to get their wives whatever their craving belly desires? Must only happen with first pregnancies.
:::
JB, by the way, is the sort of person who will randomly decide that what you need in your house is a video intercom for the front door, because that way you can see who is knocking at your door before you choose to answer it.
He is also the type of person who, during the installation process of said intercom, will ask you to test the screen from the inside, and when you press the button to activate the video, you will be confronted with a disturbing, grainy closeup view of his personal genitals.
“No thanks,” you’ll say into the speaker. “Not interested. Maybe if you’d bought me my goddamned carrot cake.”
:::
The other day a coworker of mine said (out of the blue), “I see you’re still wearing heels.”
“Yes,” I said, then feeling that my response had been inadequate, followed up with, “I’m not too uncomfortable yet, so they don’t bother me.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “I wouldn’t think you’d have to be very uncomfortable to give up heels.”
I’m still wondering who acted weirder in that conversation. Me, for randomly blurting something about pregnancy discomfort or whatever it was, or him for vaguely criticizing my shoe choice?
:::
Two days until our Tofino vacation! If you don’t hear from me for a little while, it is because I am off living the child-free lifestyle, all wild and crazy and sleeping in until 7:45.
Oct
7
October 7, 2007
We went back to the Jubilee Farm this weekend (sadly, there was no hot trebuchet action during our visit, although there were small squealing piglets and also about a bajillion chickens that terrified Riley with their slow, menacing Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawk sounds, so in terms of non-gourd entertainment all was not lost), and now our house is filled with pumpkins. Man, I love October.
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