I love my husband

So last night Josh had to go to an Astros game for work (rough life, right?)

He left the house with one simple request…to return with cotton candy. A fairly simple request from his pregnant wife (I could have asked for hot nachos with chili and jalapenos after all) but history wasn’t in his favor to actually fulfill this request.

What no one knows is that the day I told him I was pregnant, he had to go to a Rockets game, again for work. (And again, what a rough life.) So he left me alone the night I told him I was pregnant (strike one) and left the house with one simple request – cotton candy – which he didn’t fulfill (strike two.) His excuse? He was on the suite level with the special people elevators and the special people parking and the people that bring the special people all the food they want to eat so the special people never have to leave their special people seats. But apparently, the special people don’t get cotton candy, and he didn’t want to go to the common levels to get some. (strikes three through fifty.) Even though four hours before, I’d told him I WAS CARRYING HIS CHILD!

His tickets last night were for the special people section (with the special people parking, special people elevators and special people food) of Minute Maid park, so even though I begged for cotton candy, I didn’t hold out much hope. Instead, I enjoyed my single girl dinner of Tostinos pizza and Dr. Pepper while watching Steel Magnolias.

Have I mentioned I love my husband? 🙂

This entry was posted in about us, babies. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to I love my husband

  1. Libbie says:

    So sweet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s