“Mommy! Why are you wearing Daddy’s pajamas?”
“Because my belly is getting too big for my regular pajamas.” And because I am too cheap to cough up the money for maternity pajamas that will be worn for a few months.
I suppose I could suffer through the rolling waistband for 4 more months, but I risk stretching it to the point that it’s permanently ruined. While the girls have very much noticed my expanding abdomen, they apparently did not equate that with necessary wardrobe adjustments. They thought me wearing Bill’s pants very amusing.
And then the conclusion: “Mommy, you’re getting fat.” Nice. Great to have ego-boosting children.
“It’s not fat. It’s a baby.” That’s my knight in shining armor, defending the honor of his fair maiden. Alas, it merely drew their attention to him.
“So, Daddy, your belly is as fat as Mommy’s!”
Must have conversation about hurtful words…and, no, definitely his belly is not anything like mine. It’s like the difference between the 14th century view of the world (flat) and what Columbus envisioned.
In other news…
Mary said this morning:
“I will just die if I get a porcupine for my birthday!’
Duly noted. I’ll stick with something less prickly.
Rolled my ankle when my running stride landed just right (or wrong) on one of those gumball tree seed things. They’re all over the road in my neighborhood. I thought it was no big deal, but it has only gotten worse throughout the day. I may have to not run or even walk tomorrow.
Billy turned 12. We took no pictures.
I think the camera is up to 200 pictures now. Some good ones, too. Peter earned his Tiger badge at the “Blue Derby” this weekend – a combination Blue and Gold Banquet and Pinewood Derby. His derby car took first in his den and 3rd in the Pack overall. Bill did polish the axles for him, but it was his car. We took pictures. Bill made his own car. Even better pictures. Someday I’ll download them.