My friend Heidi is pregnant and has been, in her doctor's words, "in active labor" since Sunday night. This kid has no hurry up about him whatsoever. I just want her to hurry up and have the thing so we can assign it a gender and stop calling it "the baby". It makes me feel like we're talking about a pet. As in, "the dog" or "the gerbil". "Honey, did you notice that 'the dog' ate 'the gerbil'? I guess 'the gerbil' didn't taste good, because now it's all over 'the couch'!"
Just kidding! I don't know of any gerbils that were devoured by dogs. I do, however, know that my brother Eric's dumb ass dog ate a turtle, less than 20 minutes after the turtle had come into Eric's possession.
The point of all this? I have become baby obsessed lately. I dream about being pregnant all the time (thanks, Heidi) and now I find that I am thinking about it on a subconscious level, according to Lauren Lawrence, World-Renowned Dream Expert, that is. I have this recurring dream that my teeth are really loose and falling out. Find out what this means at www.mydreamdiva.com. Personally, I don't buy it. I think I am just worried about being toothless before I am 35, what with all the candy that's laying around the house since my brothers moved in. I watched Ivan eat a 5lbs bag of Skittles in 2 days not too long ago. Eric got his girlfriend Natalie an 11lbs chocolate bar for Valentine's Day.
Also, there have been Jolly Rancher's lollipops at the front counter here at work.