Let’s travel back to a time when I was pregnant.
I wanted ice cream.
There was a line at the ice cream store.
For the first time in my barftastic pregnant career I wanted ice cream. I wanted it now. And I wanted it to be quick. I stormed back to the car.
Then Cody DARED! to turn the A/C on when I was at a comfortable temperature.
Cody noticed I was angry. When we got home I HUFFED! and STOMPED! upstairs and he decided it was best to leave his hormone bag of a pregnant wife alone.
This decision is now known as one of the worst he’s ever made.
I waited for him to come up and hug my estrogen infested body.
He never came.
I’m a stubborn little toad so I decided to brush my teeth and go to bed.
While fuming and brushing and seething and brushing I was conspiring ways of vengeance.
“He HATES! anything to do with the toilet, especially things touching it.” I thought.
His toothbrush was right there.
I threw it in, finished brushing and went to sleep.
Vengeance served. (Well, I threw all his pillows on the floor and kicked him when he tried to get into the bed, then revenge was mine.)
I woke up and I was still mad as a wet hen.
I was out to get him where it hurt.
Now this is where I take a break in the story and tell you that I used to be a really good wife, I used to buy my husband a calendar each Christmas featuring someone he was particularly fond of. The 2001 calandar starred Shania Twain the 2002 calendar was teeming with Denver Bronco cheerleaders. Neither of the calendars went away in 2003.
They stayed on the wall, much like they would in a frat house or teenage boys bedroom.
They also didn’t go away in 2004, the year I happened to be pregnant.
I tore those little taut bellied tarts of the wall and started to rip. I tore them into shreds so small not even a pom pom was recognizable.
I felt gooood. Now, sweet sweet revenge was mine.
I left for work, satisfied with a job well done.
Cody called me at work a few hours later, and aksed ”What did my toothbrush ever do to you?”
He still mourns the loss of his beloved calendars. They will never be replaced as long as he has any intention of ever getting me pregnant again.
Too much of a liability.