The other day an older lady fell a few feet in front of me. She hit her head and knee and couldn’t move right away. I fled the scene in tears. There were plenty of people there to help her, and I and my kids would have been in the way. However, I couldn’t help thinking, “What if that was my mom?” and the tears just poured. I blame it on the pregnancy.
I made a quick trip to the grocery store to get things for Little Jason’s birthday, no big items, but I knew I was out of candles. When I got home and was putting away the groceries, I looked at the candle I got for him. Something wasn’t right. It was a ONE–he’ll be THREE! I blame it on the pregnancy.
My husband didn’t come home when he said he would, in time to eat and to take the kids to Karate. I couldn’t get a hold of him at work, and he won’t carry a cell phone. After hours, I emailed him and asked him if he would call me if he was still at work. I waited. I started thinking that he had left rather early that morning and I hadn’t heard from him all day. I pictured him squashed on the side of the road. He was gone. I knew it. How would I have this baby alone. How would I get through a funeral? I cried and cried. The phone rang. It was him. I answered the phone with sobs. When I could catch a breath, I accused, “I was planning your funeral!” Yep, I blame it on the pregnancy. He had gotten so busy at work that he lost track of time.
Now, I’m still thinking about what I can blame AFTER the pregnancy. Ideas?
The Winner of the Big G Star Wars Cereal and $25 Walmart Giftcard giveaway has been announced and notified.
I’m linked to Works for Me Wednesday.