Adrian is home sick. Again. This is the second day in a row. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and when he is sick, I really feel for him and want him to get better stat. But my house is my domain during the day. I like to watch what I want to watch, listen to music as loudly as I want when I clean, not have to listen to snoring in the living room because he doesn't understand the concept of a bed, and just in general have my own space.
Not to mention, I'm 37 weeks pregnant, sore, tired, uncomfortable, having occasional morning sickness, swollen so badly to the point that my toes look like sausages you could pluck off and eat...you get my point.
Perhaps if he rubbed my feet when they were sore or went to the store at 10pm (not asking much here!!) when I was craving peanut butter M&M's, I might be able to muster up an ounce or two of sympathy. Instead, I told him he stunk and needed to take a shower.
I think this baby needs to make a quick exit because it's only getting worse by the day...
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