Last night I almost burned the house down. And not in a “Ha, ha, she almost burned the house down” way (although is there ever really a “ha, ha way” to burn your house down?); it was more like a “holy shit, we’re lucky to have somewhere to sleep tonight” way. Basically I was cooking taco meat, put it on simmer, went out to run errands (which may have included a delicious pastry from John Campbell’s Irish Bakery), picked up Chris and headed home to find the house smelling like charred beef. I’m such a terrible cook, I honestly didn’t think twice about it – isn’t meat supposed to smell like a BBQ gone bad? – until I went to the stove and realized the beef had pretty much curled up into balls of charcoal because I’d left an open flame going for two hours. And, more terrifyingly, there was a paper bag, on the stove, sitting inches from the open flame. Who leaves paper bags on her stove?!? And who messes up taco meat using a packet?!?
Chris was such a trooper he actually ATE the taco meat, although there wasn’t much sour cream left by the time he was done (very reminiscent of the time I cooked spaghetti for my family when I was about eight and everyone had to gag down noodles that I’d boiled for almost an hour. Longer = better, right?).
And I’d love to tell you this was an isolated incident, but I have a whole list. Oh, you want me to share it with you to make you feel better about your far superior brain power? Here you go and, keep in mind, these are only the events I remember. Dude, we’re in trouble.
DUMB THINGS I’VE DONE WHILE PREGNANT:
Things I’ve thrown away: a brand new tube of mascara, my keys, a just cooked bagel
My least favorite was the keys because I spent a full hour trying to find them and finally realized I probably tossed them with the trash from the car (hey, at least I brought in the trash from the car).
My favorite was when the teenager at Einstein’s handed me my bagel and I walked over to the trash and threw it away. Literally. He handed it to me and I threw it in the trash (not even the compost, for God’s sake). I went back up to the counter and we had this little exchange:
Me: I just threw away my bagel.
Him: Why would you do that?
Me: Because I’m pregnant?
Yes, my dear bagel friend, huh, indeed. (He very kindly made me another one and didn’t even charge me.)
I know, let’s play Chris’ favorite game called “What the Hell is My Wife Talking About?” If you can correctly guess the word I’m looking for in all three instances, you are officially not pregnant. Or having a really cognizant day. Congratulations!
1. Can you get me the thing where I put my things to carry them around when I leave the house? (Oh, you mean a purse?)
2. I need to go to the place where they keep our money and hand out suckers. (That would be a bank.)
3. So I read this article on the… Oh, you know, the place where I work. It’s fast and tells us things. (The word you’re looking for is the Internet. You know the place where I work.)
Does my husband deserve a round of applause or what?
Things I’ve dropped:
-a Starbucks that I literally just let go of. Not over a table or a counter. I pretty much just threw it on the floor (they also very kindly made me another one).
-my phone, only 759 times
-my sunglasses, only 354 times
-an entire dish of pasta, which I also just threw on the floor. Which was weird because I was really, really hungry.
BUT NOT MY DAUGHTER. Phew.
-At my baby shower, a friend gave me a card that read, “I like it when my husband and son dress the same” (hint: this is a big clue). I then opened two hats – one baby-sized and one much larger – and exclaimed how great it was the baby would have a hat to fit no matter what the size of his head when he was born. What I was actually thinking was “OMG, my son’s head better not fit into that enormous hat or it’s going to be one helluva a birth.”
And, yes, the hat fits Chris’ head quite nicely.
-Today I texted my friend a question we had discussed in length last night (like 10 or so texts back and forth) as if we’d never had last night’s conversation. It’s like I’m an amnesia patient and every day is a totally clean slate…
Feel better? The scary thing is I still have eight more weeks out in the wild… I’ll keep you updated.
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