I remember how three months ago I had a mild cankle issue. I had to stand up all day, packing boxes, for it to appear, but by golly I had a cankle and it was Terribly Upsetting.
(It wasn't really; I just wanted something to write about, and placing books into boxes hour after hour isn't exactly what comes to mind when one hears the words "Writing Fodder".)
The cankle went away the second we were done packing and never reappeared. Then, a few days ago, after a day of lying and sitting on the couch, I looked down at my feet (it is possible for me to still see them, provided I'm in the right position), which felt oddly hot. And tight. And there on the ends of my *shin bones were two very pale, size 10EEE sausages with five little Vienna sausages each. This is what I get for being smug about how delicate and ladylike my ankles have remained this whole time.
*I originally wrote "chin" here, which, if it were true, would have been terrifying and hilarious. How's that for a freakish pregnancy symptom?
I bought some baby clothes today. I feel so guilty when I do it. But we have very little in the 0-3 mos section, and as awesome as naked babies are, I would like my little one to be clothed and warm for at least the first few weeks.
And old lady glared at my belly in the baby store today. I'm wearing jeans and one of my three remaining shirts that don't expose a pornographic amount of belly. My shirt is tight, okay? You have a problem, woman? You want to buy me a bunch of shirts just for the last month of pregnancy? Or is it that you think I'm a teen mother? Next time I get pregnant, I'm going to print myself a maternity shirt that says, "This child was conceived within the confines of holy matrimony."
Maybe I'm just touchy and need to calm the heck down.
One of those dang bees somehow got into the house. It's been swooping around the house like it owns the place. The cat growled at it earlier, but didn't do much more. Useless animal. She's getting too comfortable in this place. She needs to larn to earn her keep. All she does now is saunter about, grumbling at me all day.
I got up at 5:00 this morning (again! augh!) and sat at the kitchen table for a while. She stared at me a little, bumped her scent glands against my bathrobe, then flitted off. James came down the stairs a while later, and she all but bowed down and bathed his feet in sweet oils. Suck-up. Don't even try, cat. You have no idea what tricks we wily human females have up our sleeves. You'll never get him back. And I'M the one who's home all day, so get used to being MY friend. Mwah hah hah. And catch some bees.
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