whoever denied it, supplied it



I woke up at 3 this morning because I had to write something and lately my plans of writing after work have gone to pot. Unfortunately, so did my wee-hour-strategy because Nathan heard me typing away or he just sensed that something was going on without him and he had to find out! So he stomped down the stairs, poked his head around the corner and said, “Mom, whatchu doing?! Whatchu doing mom!?” Then he pulled me from the computer to play his latest game, “Ghost,” in which I just net him with a blanket and he waddles blindly around the living room. I joined him under that fabric and we turned it into my favorite game: “Hide from the Government and Live off the Grid.”

I wasn’t excited about Halloween until I thought of the perfect ironic costume for Nathan: Balloon Boy. I was proudly patting myself on the back for being so timely and creative for once! I had sketched out what Nathan would need to pull off this beautiful idea: a box, a balloon, tin foil and appreciation for his mom’s creativity. Then I found that someone had already thought of a Balloon Boy Costume and is making dolla-dolla-bills-y’all on exactly my idea. So Nathan is going to be a dragon, it was on sale at Goodwill.

I have been incredibly hungry. It’s the kind of insatiable hunger like when you get the munchies–OR SO I’VE HEARD–except there’s no hallucinating that Mufasa from the Lion King is outside your door or laughing for fifty minutes for something you can’t even remember and who cares because you just found some fruit loops stuck to your shirt, so party on, Wayne!

I had my monthly doctor’s appointment a few days ago so I got to hear the heartbeat again. I kept my clothes on, so no extraneous nudity (THOUGH I WAS TEMPTED!). The heartbeat was fine. My doctor placed her hands on my stomach and announced, “Your uterus is right where it should be!” Which makes me think, what if it weren’t? I mean, that’s an awkward conversation to have. “No, that’s not my third boob, it’s my uterus. It’s not where it should be.” And can I just say that “uterus” is one of my favorite words, especially since Homer Simpson used it in this context: “Marge, don’t be selfish. It’s a uter-us, not a uter-you!”

The other day I was in the car of Person Whom I Respect Highly (PWIRH). PWIRH drives a Toyota Hybrid and if you’ve ever been in one of these earth-friendly vehicles, you’d know that the engine is super silent and some kind of magic happens in that when it’s in park because it goes into a silent mode or something but in any case, PWIRH and I were talking FOR A LONG TIME in the parked mute engine Prius and I had to squeeze my butt muscles and repeat a litany of “DON’T FART IN THIS CAR! DON’T FART IN THIS CAR!” One, it would be awkward, you know, to fart while our eyes are locked and two, wouldn’t all those pregnancy toxins totally negate the carbon footprint the Prius offsets?

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  1. Balloon boy…
    you have to wonder how many of those type of costumes we will see next week.

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