Gladys has been doing an excellent job of getting us ready for a child. This past week, as the weather has gotten chillier, she has decided that the furniture is a much cozier place to spend the night than her bed on the floor.
I’ve been doing a few things to try to prevent this but without fail, during every one of the 100 trips I make to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I hear her hop down from the sofa/chair and run to her bed. Nut.
A couple nights ago, I listened for the familiar thump and didn’t hear it. So I followed my belly out to the living room but didn’t see her. I went into the baby room. And back to the living room. And back to the baby room thinking, ‘oh my gosh if she got into that crib and is snuggled down on my fresh lambie…’. She wasn’t.
Our house is not very big but I continued looking for her and finally headed back to our bedroom to ask Wes if he knew where she was. I got as far as, ‘Wes?’, then spotted her. Curled up on the huge cushy pillow I had thrown on the floor. I’d about tripped over her when I’d gotten up in the first place.
We’re going to be taking drastic measures shortly.
He must not have received the correct amount of sympathy (amazing) or it was still bothering him because last night at dinner, he was still talking about it.
‘It is really weird to weigh the most you have ever weighed in your life,’ he said.
‘Really,’ said I. He must have missed my bland look. ‘And where do you think you have put these extra three pounds?’ I asked.
‘ Right in my stomach. But, you know, I think if I just cut back for a week and ran I could lose it.’
Hmm. I’m so happy for you.