I should have made his diseased carcass move into Jack's kennel for a month with that first harmless sounding sniffle. I should have known it wasn't harmless. It's never harmless. What makes the husband sniffle tends to have a slightly more steam-roller like effect on those of us half his size.
To make matters worse, No. 9 has developed a great passion for cheese (apparently he appreciates that it is $16.00 a block, but he doesn't have his own money yet so we're to put it on his tab), and have you ever tried to balance cheese scoffing with lemon and honey drink sculling? Ack.
We have our first scan in just over a week to see how things are going (next Thursday). In the meantime, I seem to be falling asleep on the couch on a nightly basis, the morning/noon/afternoon/evening/night sickness has it's own little pattern of behaviour which I'm not even going to try and analyse, and the husband thinks my boobs are defective because they haven't started growing yet. Apparently this is completely unacceptable to a pervy husband.
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