Ever since little miss Adrianna has learned to crawl, she has been underfoot. I remember it was like this with Brock as well, but I didn’t also have a toddler at the time needing a drink, needing to go pee-pee, needing to watch Dora, etc. So when Adrianna is underfoot, it is slightly more inconvenient than it was with Brock. Taylor Swift is wrong, Two isn’t better than One.
Now, Adrianna is not only crawling all.the.time. but she is pulling herself up on things & cruising on stuff. Everything. The couch, the entertainment center, my legs. Seriously–I might as well not even wear pants when I’m at home anymore because she grabs my pant leg and pulls herself up which, effectively, pulls my pants down. So when I casually said to Greg the other night, “Ya know . . . Sissy is seriously pissing me off lately.” He laughed in my face. Then I told him what was going on and he laughed harder when I told him she kept pulling my pants down.
Then I made the mistake of asking him why he was laughing.
::Deep breath:: I cannot believe that I’m going to share this story on the internet but here goes . . .
When I was very pregnant with Brock (literally it was less than a week before he was born), Greg got the terrible insane awesome idea to get new carpet put in the house. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m saving us a little money because we are going to rip out the old carpet ourselves.” Awesome. So we moved all of our shit onto Greg’s flatbed trailer, my Dad’s flatbed trailer and into Greg’s dad’s empty semi-trailer for a couple of days while we ripped up and replaced carpet. We toiled. We sweat (keep in mind, this was the end of August). I cried. After 2 horrible days, we were done! We had brand new carpet in our house and just in time for our baby boy! Greg was overjoyed. I was exhausted. And hungry.
“I’m going to Sonic to get dinner,” I announced. Of course when I go to Sonic I have to get a Route 44 Cherry Limeade with extra cherry. But that’s normal.
Good. I was beginning to think I was the only one.
Where was I going with this story? Oh yeah. New (beige) carpet. Very pregnant. RED drink in very clumsy hands. Do you see where this is going??
Of course I spill the damn drink on our less-than-one-hour-old carpet. That’s how I roll. And of course all of our towels are either keeping furniture from scraping into other pieces of furniture on the trailers or barricaded in the linen closet down the hall. I realize where all of my towels are as I am screeching into the kitchen.
Did I mention that Greg is still sitting slack-jawed in the living room nearly in tears? In tears because he was torn between utter disbelief and the urge to kill his 9-month pregnant, clumsy wife.
As I turn the corner into the kitchen and I realize where all of my towels are, the only logical thing to do is take off my pants. (Hey! I told you things were going to take a strange twist. You knew that when you decided to keep reading this story! I blame you, reader) So I run, pants-less back into the living room because my awesome solution was to use my pants to attempt to soak up the red liquid that was oozing into my brand-new carpet.
This is about the time Greg is stifling back laughter because his very pregnant wife ran into the kitchen with pants on and back out of the kitchen with no pants on in a matter of 5 seconds. He told me later that he thought the baby had made me completely lose my mind.
Yeah, right. That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. Pssssh. It’s like he doesn’t even know me at all.