Grumpy and frustrated with my expanding girth, and psyching myself up for a trip into the City, in the cold, with the kids to meet up with friends, I resorted to my “old” stock of maternity gear.
The stuff that I purchased when preggers with Monkey Boy, which is now 8 years old. And designed to deal with a Spring/Summer pregnant woman. Not a freezing blood Melbourne one!
I popped on the old overalls – too grumpy to really care what I looked like. I had nothing else that fit.
And I’d run out of Emotional Eating Chocolate (the 70% or more cocoa dark chocolate. What other kind is there?)
On they went, with layers of long sleeve tops, knee high warm socks and my boots, and I return to the kitchen to do a bit of “Get Dressed NOW!” type discussion.
“Oh.” says Monkey Boy, pointing at me. “That’s bad.”
“That,” he says, pointing agian. “That’s really bad.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just really bad.”
“Well. I don’t care, I didn’t buy myself new clothes when I went shopping, only you. And you have to walk near me, so … ner!”
“No way. No I’m not. I’m gonna find someone else to walk with. I’ll walk behind you so I can see where you’re going. But I’m gonna walk with someone else.”
So, as soon as we get home, and just to make him feel better, I took them off and put my jarmies on. Along with my slippers (I really need to get fluffy boots for Winter), and sorted all my posting that needed doing.
Hmmmm. But am in my jarmies and slippers. So I very politely ask Monkey Boy to go across the road and post my letters for me.
No doing .. apparently it was payback. He suggested I do it.
In my jarmies and slippers.
A little bit of bribery goes a long way … the payback was paid back.
I made him come with me!