Ahh childhood memories…I can still hear Mrs. Kraft, my old school bus driver, yelling that at us. How funny that her voice is the one I hear when I try to go down to the basement and throw some laundry in. Twice now I’ve been shot down with a couple of real zinger contractions across the back when all I want to do is try to get some little bitty thing done.
It’s hot. I’m antsy. I’m achy from laying down so long. There’s nothing good to eat. I wish I could have a nice cold glass of wine. The TV sucks. Why won’t this stupid house cool off! The thermostat says 73 and I’m hot! Our couch is so uncomfortable. What a whiny baby.
“Sit down and shut up!”
When Dave gets home from work I’m going to have him airlift me into the swimming pool like they do to those cows they rescue from canyon river gorges. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll forget he left me out there and live out the rest of my pregnancy in peace.