There are many days when I would probably kill my husband if it weren't for the fact that I'm pregnant. I'm the one with the preggo brain, so I should be the one with a free pass to say whatever I want, right? Instead, I'm finding that Wesley says the darndest things these days. I usually know what he means, it's just that there are probably a hundred ways that he could say it more tactfully.
Example:
Every morning I get out of bed, puke, and then re-enter the room to show W my belly and we can see if there was any growth over the previous 24 hours. This morning was no different. I walked into the room and heard, "Side profile!" So I took my obligatory stance alongside the wall like a prisoner lines up for a mug shot and showed him my belly. (I don't think prisoners do that part though.)
I looked at Wesley and quite seriously said, "I don't think I grew any. I'm feeling pretty gaunt this morning."
To which my beloved replied, "Trust me, you do not look gaunt this morning. Not even close."
I know what he meant, but it doesn't mean that I didn't scan the room for a blunt object to beat him with either.
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Just like mama said... If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.