I think there's something in there. A friend of ours is two months more pregnant than Julie is, and that baby has become a kickboxer. Julie isn't feeling anything yet, but she's entering that noticeable stage. Amazing, I tell you. She wears pregnancy like it's couture.
The cravings are mutating, though. Yesterday at 6:00 in the morning, I drove to McDonald's for a McSausage McEgg McBiscuit or whatever. I'm McWhipped, yes. Only I got home to discover that the savvy motivated drive-through employee had placed the incorrect sandwich in the bag.
It was an Egg McMuffin: ham instead of sausage and English muffin instead of biscuit, a favorite breakfast treat just one month ago. But yesterday, it nearly caused a tearful meltdown. Julie was upset about it, too.
Of course, I tell this story to the women at work, and they're like "Well you didn't check the bag?" Which illustrates a point I made a couple weeks ago: the husband is always wrong.
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