Diagnosis: Man Flu - By A Baby Called Max
I’m only a newbie reader to ‘Where’s My Glow?’, but couldn’t resist responding to a tweet call out asking for stories that earnt the response “he did what?!?!”
My husband did just that. When I was 37 weeks pregnant.
You see, he went out with the boys one night, which in itself should have earnt him a “he did what?!” (what … with the distinct possibility that I could have gone into labour early with our first born child, while he was blind. drunk!). But no, that wasn’t the moment that this little story is about. It happened the next day, when he was flaked out on the couch, hungover beyond description, begging me not to make him come grocery shopping with him as he was “not in a good way”. Bastard.
So off I waddled. Took my first time pregnant arse (who took the eating for two thing a little too liberally whilst pregnant) off to Coles. On my own. Angry. And thinking I was a god damn pregnant superhero. I got all the groceries. All of them. And came home even more pissed off than when I left.
And he was still on the couch when I got home. Watching as his 37 week pregnant wife struggled in with all of the groceries. Not a move from Mr. Chivalrous. And then I went back to the car to bring in a sack of potatoes. On each arm! And it was only then that he looked up and asked, “are you right there, babe?”.
He did what?!
Yes. He really did. Jerk … ;)
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A Baby Called Max. Or, more accurately, a baby called Max is from Cherie.
Originally from Radelaide but now living it up in Melbourne, she's a writer at heart but also a registered nurse who loves to cook.
A married mama of one (the afore mentioned Max), Cherie says she's not cool, calm and collected but the chaotic scene she finds herself in is most definitely a blissful one.
Her blog is super pretty with birds, butterflies and bunting. You can check her out on Facebook and on Twitter.
Next week: Let's Bond with Erin
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DON'T MAKE ME BEG!