There is something wrong with me. And I am not referring solely to the fact that I am pregnant and, as a result, more sober than I have been in over a decade. What I am referring to is something far more disturbing. So, let me tell you a story.
About 8 weeks ago, when I was but 16 weeks pregnant and just announcing my pregnancy to my coworkers and letting them know that they get to do all the hard stuff while I just hang out and write academic and procedural papers, I read about what my fetus looks like at 16 weeks. For those of you that have never read a pregnancy blog, they compare the fetus to food. Week 16 was an avocado. When I told Mister Adventure about the avocado and suggested we make baby guacamole, he was not amused. He found the idea repulsive. So, I made my suggestion to one of my favorite people from college and she, who happened to have an avocado in her kitchen at that moment, suggested she would carve it in to the shape of a fetus and mail it to us. I found this hilarious!
Fast forward to about four weeks ago:
Mister Adventure was making dinner (he's been taking on additional household duties while I finish graduate school, work full time and grow a baby. And he is amazing at it). He was making mashed potatoes and had a potato masher in hand and made mashing motions at my belly while saying, "mash the baby!" I would have found this hilarious a few weeks before, but I was not amused. Mashed baby is hilarious! Or, it used to be.
And that is why I decided I need to make a blog. Or something.
So my question: am I doomed? Am I going to lose my sense of humor entirely and be one of those horrible people that tells other people that things aren't funny? Am I doomed to become boring? Help me, internet!