One of the best (cough, cough) things about being pregnant is all of the things you get to give up. I mean really, who needs a drink every now and then, or a ham sandwich, or a tasty piece of sushi. Not this pregnant lady! (lies… all lies…..)
I’m actually convinced that you are only forced to give up so much for the time you are pregnant so that when the baby actually arrives, all the additional things you need to give up come as less of a shock, since you’ve already been living without a ton of things that you really want.
Your husband on the other hand, needs to give up nothing. And, if you have a wonderfully supportive and loving husband, like I do, he will sneak in opportunities to remind you of this.
Take for example, the kegerator we have in the basement. Hubby and I have debated buying “better” beer for the kegerator for years and we almost always wind up settling for a middle-of-the-road type that is “appealing to the masses”. This way we don’t have friends come over, pour themselves a way-too-expensive pint of beer, and then pour it down the sink since they don’t like it. Hubby & I tend to lean towards craft beers and we like to try new things but we pretty much always wind up with something like Yuengling due to cost and general appeal…. that is of course…..UNTIL I got pregnant.
We announce we’re expecting then, as if on cue, we need a new keg. To my surprise hubby comes skipping into the house after a trip to the liquor store… he’s singing some sort of song about brown dogs or something. So, I have to stop and ask..”What are you singing about?” “Oh, I’m just excited because I bought a keg of Smuttynose Old Brown Dog!” he replies, grinning ear-to-ear. “WHAT?? You waited for me to get knocked up to fill the kegerator with something special??” Then the grin begins to fade as he realizes what’s he’s done… but hey, the damage is already done. “BASTARD!” I lovingly reply, with my own grin on my face. “I hope you realize you’ll be sleeping in the basement…………….”
So, after this horrible mishap, or perhaps well orchestrated father-to-be reward he gave himself (I’m still not sure which), you’d think he’d be automatically attuned to making sure he’s more sensitive to my current state. BUT, you’d be incredibly wrong, remember this is MY hubby we’re talking about.
So one night, not long after the keg incident, he’s out to dinner with a bunch of our friends (I wasn’t able to be there ). And, this is the picture message he sends me.
Now, in case you can’t quite make out what that is…. it’s a scrumptious plate of swordfish. And, just in case you are wondering, swordfish is my FAVORITE meal when we are out to dinner. And, in case you don’t know the rules of pregnancy… swordfish is an absolute No, No.
My smart ass hubby thinks he’s funny, sending me pictures of food items that I cannot eat. Yes, my ever sympathetic husband… rather than sneaking food items that I can’t have, in order to make me feel better, is rubbing it in my face via text messages. He’s awesome isnt’ he?! He really is lucky that I’m a good natured person and can appreciate the humor in his ridiculous behavior (even in the midst of my pregnancy hormones). And, rather than cry and accuse him of not being supportive I can just shrug it off and put tiny little pins in his toothbrush, or fill up his car with all his empty soda cans (DANG IT! – I’ve just given myself away………… )
Yes folks, our lives are a laugh a minute…. that is of course, until I stab him in the eye. What on earth will I do if I wind up with two of him???
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