In which Krispy Kreme is exonerated

I haven’t been blogging lately because for the past two days I’ve been playing a game called, “Vomit: Pregnancy or stale doughnut?” It started Saturday morning when I woke up and I found a Krispy Kreme sitting on the counter. I went all Homer Simpson and forgot to ask how long it had been there, thinking only, “I want to eat you, Forbidden Doughnut.”

And I didn’t hold onto it long, which was the story of all the food I tried to eat this weekend.

Since morning sickness was how I knew I was pregnant the last time, I panicked at the idea of another baby so soon. I was pissed at my cousin-in-law who urged me to have a baby right away. She probably jinxed me or impregnated me with her sperm and egg tango ideas! Could I really be pregnant, I wondered. I guess it’s possible, what with my big floppy vagina hanging down to my ankles. I’m surprised I haven’t been fertilized by a strong wind yet.

We have enough clothes for another baby. If I had a girl, she’d just have to deal with pictures of her rocking the blue “BOYS LOVE BASEBALL” and “FUTURE QUARTERBACK” gear. You can get away with a girl in blue. I don’t think Nathan could handle wearing anything that said, “DADDY’S LITTLE PRINCESS.”

It was scary worrying about two babies in diapers (and when Mike fits into his Depends next year, I’ll have three babies on my hands!). I told Mike, “I’ve been throwing up. I can’t eat any food. And you know how I love food! This is serious!”

I have never seen anyone run to the drugstore so fast. The last time I ran that quickly was in the first grade. I was half a block away from my house when I had to pee with such fury that if I didn’t jet home, I’d have to explain to my mom that it was just a fluke and there was no need for vinyl pants.

Anyway, once I had completed the test, Mike said through the door, “Do I need to get my glasses?”

“No, I’ll read it out to you. Let’s see. Horizontal line plus vertical line equals, ‘We’re not pregnant, stupid.'”

I tried to tell all of this to my friend who has no children. It’s hard to illustrate that kind of potential chaos of juggling two babies to someone who heard me say, “Yeah it was just the stomach flu, not a doughnut baby, ha ha!” and in turn responded with, “Dude, that sucks,” because I know that the whole time I was talking she was really thinking, “Oh you pretty Chitty Bang Bang, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, we love you. And, in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, what we’ll do.”

I don’t blame her though. I hope I’m over this dreadful thing because I heard that Krispy Kreme has a New York Cheesecake-filled doughnut and who wouldn’t want a belly full of that?

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Comments

  1. Oh, The Joys says:

    “my big floppy vagina hanging down to my ankles” — if I weren’t on a CONFERENCE CALL while reading this (oh, the shame) I would be screaming, howling, dying with laughter. I am now in love with you — fully, robustly in love, flaps and all.

  2. R A C H E L says:

    isn’t it true that there are no false positives, only false negatives? Maybe you should take another test!

  3. Just so you know Rachel, thanks to your comment, I took a second test and it came out negative. Thanks for instilling fear in a shiksa like me. That’s meshuggeneh!

  4. nutty mummy says:

    This made me LOL!!!

    Made even funnier because I now have the 6 month old second baby 14 months after the same queasy situation happened to me!!

    ah… kids 🙂

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