I’ve just made a most unpleasant discovery. Not the kind of thing anyone wants to wake up to. While I was sleeping my traitorous husband ate the last TWO pieces of the pumpkin pie that *I* made. Selfish bastard. He should know better. You do not get between a pregnant woman and her food of choice. And to add insult to injury, he failed to take off his boots when he got home last night…and tracked huge clumps of dirt all over the house, from the kitchen to the bathroom. To take a line from Inigo Montoya, “there will be blood tonight”.
Update: I should have realized these things come in threes. When the little man and I went out to the car this morning I discovered the husband had, so courteously, left it for us with an empty gas tank. The gas light lit up the instant I started the car, with the needle falling to the empty line. Grrr.