I feel sorry for Tom.
Not only does he have to put up with a hormonal pregnant woman who has been known to flip out over the silliest things--the latest being my meltdown when I discovered we were out of Cran Grape.
"Where's my Cran Grape? Where's my Cran Grape!?" I wailed.
Tom looked a little guilty. "Er..well there was only a little bit left so I drank it.."
"Where's my Cran Grape?" I repeated.
"I just told you..I finished it. We'll be going grocery shopping soon and I'll get you some more, don't worry."
"What am I to drink now, Tom, what am I to drink now?"
In the end I just had some iced tea.
And yes, I am embarrassed by my meltdown.
I mean it was just juice.
But as I was saying, not only does Tom have to deal with my meltdowns, but he's not getting any either.
I just haven't been in the mood.
I wish I could get myself in the mood because it's apparent that Tom, for lack of better words, wants some booty.
He kept making out with me last night which is something he rarely does.
I love making out but in the middle of a session alarm bells went off in my head.
Husband wants booty, husband wants booty, alert, alert!
When I said I was heading off to bed he gave me a knowing look and said, "And I'll come with you.."
He even flossed.
The man rarely ever flosses unless he's ready for some action.
I hate flossing.
Putting string between my teeth is not pleasant.
I was laying in bed as he flossed, wondering how I was going to let him down gently.
I was positive the whole "I'm tired" excuse was getting old.
Even though it's not an excuse.
By the evening I am tired.
I thought about passing some rancid gas but didn't want to be constantly known as "the wife who lets them rip."
But then Tom solved the problem for me.
Because he took a dump.
He called out, "Hold on!" shut the door and switched the bathroom fan on.
I started to read my book. I'm in the middle of The Virgins Lover by Philippa Gregory.
(Won on eBay for $5.00! which is a deal because in stores it usually goes for around $13.00.)
Tom emerged ten minutes later.
I don't understand how he finds sauntering out of the bathroom with his scent wafting behind him romantic.
Hello! I can smell what you just did in there!
"It smells," I said, setting my book beside me and pinching my nose.
"Oh it does not. I had the fan on and I sprayed," Tom retorted, switching off the light. I felt him climb into bed and reach for me.
"Tom...I'm just not.." I began as he started to press kisses on my neck. "Tom, I just can't do this after you took a dump. I just, the image of you sitting there is.."
Tom pulled back. "Hey, I've made love to you after you've passed some of the worst gas that I've smelled in ages. Amber, no offense, but some of the stuff you pass would make my buddies grimace.."
"I'm just not in the mood. But we can cuddle!" I said brightly.
Tom sighed. "Am I never going to get sex again?" he grumbled.
He spooned against me.
All was well until...
He started pressing his crotch against my butt.
"Tom," I said in a warning tone.
"I can't help it. I love your butt."
"I can't imagine why. It's covered in cellulite."
(Sorry for the image.)
"I like it."
"Well thank you. But I'm very tired.."
"Fine." A sigh and a huff and Tom rolled over to his side.
And I do feel bad because he's been so nice to me.
This morning he took me to Target.
He hates Target.
He let me take my time.
Of course when I tried to get more wall hangings for Natalie's room he said no.
"She has that princess thing we got her," he reminded me.
"But it looks so plain against the wall!" I argued.
Then when we went into the baby section they had some things for 75% off!
I found some adorable hats with bear ears.
"Why must you insist on dressing our children up as animals?" Tom asked.
"Because it's cute!"
I did get some socks for a buck. For Natalie.
And a bib for .53 cents.
"I don't understand why it takes women so long to look," Tom spoke up.
"Because that's what we're doing," I explained. "Looking."
Tom found a DVD. Behind Enemy Lines II.
Looks like a total guy movie to me.
Then we looked at the Valentines Day stuff.
They had a Valentine Mr. Potato Head that I wanted to get for Tommy.
"It's pink and red!" Tom argued.
"It's PINK and RED!" Tom repeated.
"But he likes Mr. Potato Heads. He doesn't care about the colors.."
"But I do. He's a boy.."
"Ugh darn society and the whole girl and boy colors. It's a crock," I grumbled.
Oh but I did pick out some Valentines Day chocolates. Tom brought me over and went, "Okay pick."
I picked out some Dove truffles.
Mmm Dove truffles..
I told Tom to hide them from me or else I'd eat them now.
Oh and I asked if he was getting me a card.
"What for?" he asked, looking totally confused.
"Er...to express your love for me..I bought YOU a card.."
"I express my love for you everyday. I'm expressing my love for you now. I'm getting you $13 dollar chocolates.."
"I know but it's more personal if you get a card..and WRITE in it," I added.
He has a habit of just buying a card and just handing it to me.
With NOTHING personal written in it.
"What's the point? What I wanted to say is already ON the card!" he said.
"But I like getting personalized cards," I explained.
"Fine I'll sign my name and write 'I love you.' How's that?" Tom asked.
I pulled a face. "That's it? I was planning on writing you a letter.."
This time Tom pulled a face. "But why? You know I'm not a fan of reading, I don't need a letter..just give me the card as is.."
"But it's not FUN that way.."
"Who needs a card to be fun?"
"Fine. I'll write a sentence. Final offer."
"And please don't write me a long letter. Because no offense but I'd probably just skim it.."
"Fine you mean boy."
"I'm not a mean boy..because guess what?"
"I'm taking you to Kohls tomorrow. I saw on TV that they're having a massive Saturday sale."
I perked up immediately. "KOHLS!"
(That's my reaction whenever someone mentions Kohls. To shout it. I don't know why.)
"And I'll TRY not to rush you.."
"And we can stop by Toys R Us while we're there and fine, we can look at those plastic houses and MAYBE decide which one we want to get for the backyard.."
(I finally convinced him to get one of those playhouses..I know Tommy would love it.)
I threw myself at Tom and kissed him hard. "Thank you so much!"
"And while we're there we can stop off at Olive Garden.."
"SALAD!" (I love their salad.)
So you see?
I wish my libedo would perk up because he deserves to be rewarded.
But it's like non-existant.
It's off vacationing in Mexico or something..