It’s fairly obvious that I’ve been MIA in the blogging world for the last week. That’s because I’ve been off on a trip with The Husband. Just the two of us. Like grown-ups.
It’s been a long, long time. And it was wonderful.
A friend left a message on my cell phone, “Have a good time in DC. But don’t get pregnant!”
Har dee har har.
That was until today when I had a craving. Which was exactly the same craving (and the only thing I could hold down during my morning sickness-filled pregnancy fifteen years ago). What makes it even more strange is how gross it should sound to a woman with tsunami-like waves of nausea back then.
Are you ready for it?
A 6-inch Subway tuna sandwich with lettuce and extra pickles, Salt & Vinegar potato chips and real Coke. But that’s exactly what I wanted today (thankfully, minus the nausea).
Have I been jinxed?
What makes this story even worse is that when I was pregnant the first time around, a woman in my office who was my age now thought she was going through the beginnings of perimenopause. Didn’t quite turn out that way. She was preggers at 48 and we had our babies within a couple weeks of each other.
It’s just a sandwich, it’s just a sandwich.