So on Saturday, being the loving wife that I am, I ran into the liquor store (obviously I don't care what the liquor store employees think of a huge pregnant woman buying a ton of liquor) to grab some provisions for PVT: two six packs of beer and a thing of gin. As I was balancing the beer and gin on my large belly, a guy, who seemed to have followed me in, approached me. I KNEW who this guy was, in fact I knew I knew him quite well, but couldn't place him. He saunters up to me with a twinkle in his eye and says, "You know you shouldn't be drinking that, right?"
OH. Now I knew who it was. I couldn't place him because he didn't have his on WHITE COAT. He was my OB.
And now for those dang kids:
Keane, terribly proud of his soccer tournament trophy. No, I was not there to see the winning game. Yargh.
Will is speaking Chinese. I don't know what he is saying.
My entire family watching Sponge Bob. Brings a tear to your eye, now, doesn't it?
And one of me: I always have to force myself to take one late pregnancy picture, just to prove to the poor upcoming baby that yes, she is indeed a VT. This was on my way to speak at LTYM - hence the kick arse stilettos. And no, I didn't fall. And the audience laughed when they were supposed to. And then Ravishing Red Ann and I ate sushi (oh calm down I got a tempura roll). So a successful endeavor all around.