that Husband is an optimist, someone able to look at the positive side of life, because I need it to quell my anxieties.
Me: Oh my God, what if I give birth to a pterodactyl?
Husband: Then we’ll never have to work again.
Phew.
Just to explain, Baby can move to the point where my shirt ripples mysteriously. It’s kind of like a Lochness Monster sighting, except it’s happens all the time. And while I’m excited by this stage, sometimes I worry about random things, like is he okay, is he dead, or you know, the pterodactyl thing. There’s just a lot of wild movement in my middle right now. Who knows what’s in there? (Yeah, I know, I have sonograms, but STILL.)