Check Your Pride at the Door

I hit a new low yesterday. Well, a couple of new lows. I'm so glad they throw in that little "unconditional love" verbiage to marriage vows  b/c that's definitely what Beau needs to get through some of his times with me. After trotting him all around the city yesterday to go pregnancy bottoms shopping (this is what happens when you only buy shirts and dresses) and shoe shopping, I was just dying for some ice cream. Dying. The guy behind the counter was quite proud of the 2 extra scoops in the huge waffle cone he gave me and watching my husband's wide-eyed expression was almost as delicious as the enormous amount of ice cream itself. :-) I'm telling you - people love to feed pregnant chicks...

We arrived home soon after just as I realized that I was going to wet myself if I didn't go to the bathroom NOW. No time for anything, no time to set anything down, no time. So I yelled out for Beau to come get my ice cream. NOW. He said, "Hold on, I'm going to go let the dogs out." Oh no, he was already in the back of the house. I ran to the guest bathroom still urgently calling out for him. As he ran and turned the corner, there I was squatting in front of the commode working on a 1-handed squirmy attempt to get my clothes off all while holding the huge waffle cone in the other hand. I wish I knew whose deer-in-the-headlights look was worse but thank goodness he grinned a little bit or I would have been mortified. He simply walked over and grabbed my ice cream cone saying, "This is a mental image I want to try to forget." What? Not sexy? But thanks to him, crisis averted. Whew....

Then, as I contently took back my ice cream cone (only after 1 minute of sheer panic b/c I couldn't FIND Beau and the cone - really, our house isn't that big - I don't know how he disappears), I plopped onto the couch to enjoy the rest of it. I devoured it just in time to notice the MESS I made all over myself. Crumbs on my big belly, crumbs on my boobs, crumbs in my bra, everywhere. And that's when I had the idea. The Hand Vacuum! It went a little something like this....

"Beeeeaaaaaauuuuu, can you get me the hand vacuuuuum?"

Him: "Why?"

"No reason."

He did a double take: "You. Aren't....."

"What?! I made a mess!"

Giving me a what-have-you-become look: "You aren't going to vacuum the crumbs off your pregnant body??"

[rambling begins] "Well...you just don't understand how hard it is to carry around all this weight and I can't get up off the couch very easily....." 

...And then we laughed and laughed. I love laughing with him!

There you have it. Two "check your pride at the door" situations that I never thought I'd be in. ;-)