Wednesday, September 9, 2015

A Run For the Border

It all started exactly seven years ago today. At that point in time our family was just me and the Wife. Oh, and our two annoying dogs. We had recently found out that the Wife was pregnant, so we knew life was going to change, but we didn't realize how much change there would ultimately be over the next seven years. If there's one thing I've learned over and over and over and over again in the last seven years, it's that life is full of change...

So any way, back to the story. Like I said, it was seven years ago. We were gonna have a baby in a few months, and we were as excited as could be. I was probably also a little nervous, you know, since I had never changed a diaper before, but I wouldn't have to confront that fear for a while. I also knew, maybe by instinct, that my pregnant wife should be pampered as much as could be. She was carrying my baby, after all, and my job in the whole process of "creating life" was pretty much done, so the least I could do was try to take some of the burdens off the Wife while our baby developed in her tum-tum. ("Tum-tum" is what all expectant dads call the uterus. Just to be clear...)

One way to do that seemed obvious to me. I needed to keep the Wife fed. Pretty much every TV show I had ever watched that featured a pregnant character taught me that pregnant women can have cravings for any known food at any time of the day or night. The concept of eating copious amounts of food at any time of day seemed natural to me. I had been doing that for as long as I could remember. So I made the Wife an offer I thought she wouldn't be able to refuse. I told her that at any point during her pregnancy, even at 3AM, I would happily go and get the both of us some tacos from our favorite local taco establishment, which rhymes with "Snocko Shell", if she had even just the smallest pangs of a craving. I thought that I was being a real fine husband to offer something like that, and I figured she would probably take me up on it, perhaps that very night.

But, here we are, more than two thirds of the way through our 4th pregnancy, and she still hasn't taken me up on it. Can you believe it?!?! What is going on? She is on her 34th month of being pregnant in the past seven years, and not once in those 34 months has she been craving a taco? I have been craving tacos the entire time...why won't she let me go get me, I mean her, some tacos?!?!

If you are a close personal friend of the Wife, I urge you to send her a note. Tell her to take me up on this amazing offer. Remind her that there is a very good, although probably not 100% chance, knowing us, that she will never be pregnant again. This might be the last couple of months that this offer will ever be on the table. And I really want some tacos! I want to make a run for the border! And I promise I will remember the hot sauce this time...

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