My Pregnant Husband

*First off, I changed my whatchamcallit-web-address-thingy-mbobber. It seemed like it would just update you all where I went, but if I effed something up, sorry about that. Hopefully you guys aren’t lost in space wondering if I died or something. Can someone give me a quick shout out in my comment box letting me know that your dashboard updated with my new web-address-thingy-mbobber.

I went to the store after work yesterday for two reasons: today we had a pot-luck at work so I needed supplies and I want to avoid all shopping for the next week if at all possible. I used to work at the grocery store in high school. This time of year is a shit storm of craziness. It is like people turn into rabid psycho beasts of anger. Anyhoo, I called Andy after work to get his input on what I should pick up to keep us fed for the next 7 days. His response was “can you get some more microwaveable soft pretzels?” – okay I have to interrupt with the backstory otherwise my reaction might be confusing. Andy is a big judgy-pants when it comes to deliciously overprocessed white flour items such as microwaveable soft pretzels. I on the other hand, love the shit out of them. On a trip to the store a few months ago, I actually stood in the aisle in front of the freezer door looking longingly at the box of soft pretzels for several seconds before deciding my will was strong enough to not get them. As I walked away Andy said ‘I am proud of you’. So Friday night his little sister came over to stay the night, we ran to Target together to grab some last minute baby shower gift items and some snacks and I’ll admit it to you, because you won’t judge, I bought myself a box of microwaveable soft pretzels. But in my defense I only had one that evening and never even looked back the rest of the weekend. – Zoom back to yesterday and Andy’s comment and I was like ‘uh oh, why, did you eat them all?’. And his response was ‘well I was just going to have one, but they were so tasty and I developed the perfect dipping sauce to go with them, so now there is only one left’. I busted up. Who is this man? What did he do with my husband?
Once I was able to move past the soft pretzel request I asked what else he would like. ‘Can you get some more Haagen Dazs Rocky Road?’. I about died. – As you might imagine, due to his vendetta against processed white flours, Andy isn’t a big sweet person. The boy is a steak, green beans and salad freak. His idea of a “treat” is effing imitation crab meat. Now I loves me some ice cream, but I am a chocolate chip kinda girl. Again when his sister and I went to Target, she was jonesing for some Rocky Road. She must have taken two bites and then forgotten it in our fridge. – Zoom back to yesterday. “Did you eat all your sister’s ice cream?” – me. “No not all of it”– pregnant husband. “I thought you hated marshmellow?” – me. “I do, hey can you get the Haagen Dazs Rocky Road without the marshmellows?”. I could not breathe I was laughing so hard. He innocently said “what?”. “It is like I am talking to a pregnant woman or something? I thought I was supposed to do and ask for weird things and it is like you are another person”.  I laughed so much I had myself in a coughing fit.
“Okay so besides soft pretzels and the equivalent of Rocky Road minus the marshmellows, did you want anything else?”. “Oh will you see if they have fried chicken?” – Pregnant Husband. “Fried Chicken?” – Confused woman who can’t stop laughing at her husband. “Yeah you know how it is like the whole chicken, but they fry the pieces, it is usually in the deli.”  “Okay anything else Pregnant Husband?” – me. “Then I guess whatever you want to eat”. I think it is official, I am not the only pregnant person in our household.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “My Pregnant Husband

  1. Ha, you are such a good pregnant wife to be taking care of the other pregnant person in your house. Cracks me up!And thanks for the update on your blog change, it didn't update for me either. That happened to me too when I changed my url – I had to find everyone again.

  2. Glad I finally got your blog figured out, I'm back! I'm stalking! And I'm glad for the belly pics and update on your husband. My husband continues to grab his belly, stare in the mirror and ask me if I can tell he's gained weight or moan about how bloat he is. At which point I just death stare him as I put on my elastic pants.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s