And he, trying to be the loving husband that he is, hustled his cute butt all the way to the store to buy a carton of eggs before I even got out of the shower just so I could have a little protein before
slipping sipping into a sugar coma for the glucose test at the doctor's this morning.
And how did I repay him? By refusing to eat eggs because they sounded unappetizing to a Pregs
(granted, I didn't know he made a special trip to purchase them!) then proceeding to cry hysterically in the passenger seat on our way to the hospital because it was "the worst day of my life so far." I kid you not. I complained
like a child that my car key is broken
(couldn't be because I drown it in the washing machine last night), my face is super broken out even with my lack of makeup usage, I was hungry, I didn't want to go to the doctors or to work and I ended my rant by venting about how I am more and more tired every day of my life. Kevin, in between the occasional
I-can't-believe-this-is-happening giggle, waited patiently for me to stop whimpering and hide my ugly cry face before trying to console me. Five minutes later, all puffy-eyed and tear-stained, I was fine. All Kevin said was "Welcome back to reality, Pregs" and we went on our merry way. My only response to this crazy situation?
Hello, hormones, nice to meet you. My poor husband
really hopes you won't overstay your welcome.
*Addition to the story...Text received from the husband that rocks my world
(even when I don't deserve it) at 1.35pm:
"Love you.
Good job getting your blood drawn.
I feel bad you have to do all that but you're a champ.
Love ya."
Double love you's? Now
that's love :)
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