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Just some random thoughts while I fill the space until the new season of Sex and the City starts...
The Husband felt the baby move last night. Thank God! I think he was beginning to think I was lying about the whole pregnant thing! Okay, not really, but I know he's been feeling sort-of left out. There hasn't been a whole lot so far that he can experience. It was nice to give him some concrete evidence.
Jim, my father-in-law, bought us a copy of the new Harry Potter book yesterday. This is a very good thing. The not-so-good part is that I don't yet have it in hand. I am so an instant gratification person. We walked past a display of them in the grocery store last night, on sale at $17.99, and it was all I could do to not buy another copy, just because it was RIGHT THERE! I want it NOW! How very Veruca Salt of me...
Eggshells make a very satisfying crunch in the garbage disposal. I would, however, trade that piece of knowledge, gained earlier this evening, for a husband who can manage to do his own damn dishes.
Yesterday, I sent an email message to HSBF Scott's aunt, RSVPing yes to an engagement party for him and Laura, his fiancee, whom I have not yet met. Scott and I, as I've mentioned in here before, have been friends since fifth grade. It's a very cool thing that our relationship has transcended our romantic history to the point where he was at our wedding and the Husband and I will be at at least the engagement party. The wedding is the week before the baby is due, so all bets on our attendance are off. Though my mom thinks it would be a lovely gift to the bride for me to show up as big as a house! This was her only solid comment on the affair. She thinks it's really odd that we're going. Of course, she's also still trying to get over the fact that the Husband invited his ex-girlfriend's PARENTS to our wedding. A different generation, I guess. She'd sooner cut off her arm than have to have more than a three-word conversation with the man she dated in high school.
There's a Carvel Flying Saucer in the freezer with my name written all over it, and I think if you could decipher the morse code being beaten onto my abdomen, it would say, "send down the ice cream!" so this seems like a good time to exit stage left.
Pleasant evening, all...
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