Eleven weeks, today, and the baby’s roughly the size of a lime. Since the uterus is the size of a large grapefruit, or maybe… a small coconut, this makes the baby the lime in the coconut, right? My wife made this clever connection and was singing the song all morning.
While we are on the topic of the tropics (limes, coconuts, what have you – it’s all loosely related), I will mention that the kids are in Florida with their father on vacation. The Big One called a few hours ago in tears asking for me to send her a scan of the insurance card, because she stepped on a shell in the ocean, cutting her foot open, which caused her to fall and twist her ankle, so they were at the urgent care. Of course, I was nice and pleasant and soothing and motherly when I spoke to her, but in my head I was thinking “Really? The urgent care over a seashell?” Turns out, it was not a seashell she stepped on, but a sting ray. She is tough as nails! Considering she STEPPED on a STING RAY, I would say that just a few tears (really, only a few) qualify her as a pretty tough cookie. She is actually quite pleased with this turn of events, because being stung by a sting ray over your summer vacation makes for an excellent story when you return to school.
While the kids are gone, the wife and I are heading out to the Hamptons for a night (aren’t we so fancy?). I have been trying to talk the wifey into doing some maternity clothes shopping while we are out there, and so far she has replied with “Maternity clothes in the Hamptons. That should be totally affordable.” Maybe there is one or two things that will be, though? At least I should be able to talk her into some window-shopping. I bought the Bella Band online to accommodate the food-baby I seem to have acquired while waiting for the lime-baby to take up residence in my mid-abdomen, and have to say, I don’t know why all women don’t wear their pants unbuttoned with elastic around the waist holding them up.