the little things...

This afternoon after I'd fed all the troops sarnies (bar myself), Little Miss D decided she couldn't wait a moment longer for her later than usual liquid lunch, so Mommy had to abandon making my own sandwich to nourish the sprout-ling.

I got legged out on the bed with her heiness clamped on like a barnacle, her fingers gripping mine as I lifted my boob for her convenience, and thought,

"Damn."

My tummy growled in reproval. I'd only gotten out the sandwich makings in the first place because I had been feeling peckish. Now she was sucking even more calories out of me.

Granted, it wouldn't hurt me to have a net negative calorific intake for a day or two, but I just couldn't get that cheese and turkey slice sandwich out of my head.

"DAAAAAAADDEEEEEEEE!

And this is just one of the reasons why I love him. I asked for a sandwich - I did - but what I didn't ask him was to cut it up into easy-to-manage-while-breastfeeding quarters.

So I was lying there predicting how he wouldn't do that, and I'd have to struggle getting it into my mouth without chunks of tomato and cheese dropping out onto my baby's face, when lo and behold, my incredibly considerate hubs brings, not just any old quarters but, triangle quarters.

He's my hero.

Another little thing he does (that earns him BIG bonus points) is give me the girly mug. Whenever he's pouring out coffee (or tea) for us both, I get the mug with Marilyn on it, or a love heart, or the red one (if his is blue).

Usually he's onto a winner with this charming little trick. Today, however, he poured out these two gender neutral mugs and left them on the hob.

Impatient for my caffeine 'hit' I wandered over eagerly to the two steaming mugs and asked, "Which one's mine?"

Think before you speak, husband dearest...

"The thinner one. The more feminine of the two." It just rolled off the poor bloke's tongue.

Oh no, you just didn't.......

"The thinner one is the more feminine?" I laughingly asked. Even though it was NOT that funny.

He didn't answer and I stopped right there. It wouldn't be a fair fight. There's just no digging out of that hole.

Only twice in my life have I been thinner (or should I say 'lighter') than the hubs: the day I met him, and the day before I got knocked up with Little Miss D...

I have this (silly?) romantic idea that he should be heavier (and larger) or I need to be skinnier (and lighter) in order for him to feel manly and for me to feel feminine....

(X-1)lbs is always my target weight (where X = The Hubs). It's no easy target - especially when he drops 5lbs when he shaves, or gets his hair cut!

Believe me, I've tried increasing his portions, and only eating when he eats. But he has a crazy fast inhuman metabolism. You should see what I'm up against! He can eat a full pizza and a vat of ice cream to himself and be 3 lbs lighter the next day.

How fair is that?

I'll tell you. NOT fair at all.

Now I've got that lot off my chest I think I'll eat another gingerbread cookie and have a drink of tea out of my feminine cup. That will make me feel much better.