“Enjoy sleeping while you can!”
“Enjoy going out while you can!”
“Enjoy living while you can!”
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been on the receiving end of such suggestions, usually followed by an evil Cruella de Vil-esque cackle, from parents over the past nine months, I’d have… (Candy counts on her fingers) well, a LOT of nickels. And Mr. Candy and I fully intended to do just that — sleeping, going out and living — this weekend in celebration of Independence Day. What’s left of OUR independence, I mean. With our seven-year wedding anniversary on Monday, we’d planned to drive up to Santa Barbara and enjoy a romantic rendez-vous. But after I gave birth to a bouncing bundle of ghost slime, we realized traveling may not be the best idea right now and decided to stay home instead. And pick cat hairs off the floor. Woo-hoo!
You know this means, right? Baby Girl is NEVER going to come out.
Oh well. Better safe than sorry; going into labor on the 101 Freeway would have caused terrified screams and massive panic. And with Mr. Candy in that kind of state, who would have driven the car?
Not to mention the cats are thrilled we stuck around. In fact, Matty had his first real bonding moment with Baby Girl today:
“Knock, knock! Anybody in there? And do you have Meow Mix for me?”
For those who celebrate the holiday, have a wonderful Fourth of July. I’ll give you the same piece of sage advice my father gave me on the phone today: “Stay away from firecrackers!”
I’ll forever be 12 years old to ol’ Dad. And bless him for that.