My Persistence Has Paid Off

It has only taken 14 years of training, but I finally have Jeb right where I want him - scared to death. It happened after one too many pregnant hormonal freak outs over one too many items of clothing shrunk in one too many loads of laundry that aren't meant for the dryer. That's right. He committed the unforgivable offense of actually drying the clothes that were in the washing machine. How dare he!!

I get that he was trying to help, really I do. I just can't bring that understanding to the bulge in my belly that is cooking up all the crazy lady hormones in my head. That would take reason and rational thinking; 2 things that are among the first to go out the window when I am with child.

We both knew this would happen. I'm always hopeful that this pregnancy will be the one that won't bring out the psycho-crazy-head-spinning-pea-soup-shooting mom, but I'm always found powerless in the face of gestational hormones. When we told my side of the family that we were bringing the number of grand kids up to 7, my sister in law reminded me that she comes from a family of 5. She mentioned that her mom had to stop at 5 because they almost lost her in the delivery of that baby. My brother said "Don't tell her that!", but it didn't bother me one bit. I told them that really the only person who risked any injury to life or limb with this pregnancy was Jeb. If either of us wasn't going to make it through, it was absolutely my poor husband who would suffer at the hands of his mood swinging wife.

All of us could feel it brewing. The soundtrack of our house was starting to intensify, and all our hearts were beginning to beat a little bit faster and faster every day. It was just one bad moment when his good Samaritan efforts, with an unfortunate and unintended outcome, launched me over the edge. Poor guy. It's good he was far away from home when he called to check in on me. Even with that space I'm pretty sure I did mange to do some kind of damage through the phone. He hung up completely deflated. On the other hand, he would be in the hospital if it weren't for the distance from our house to his office.

To try to avoid this mistake in the future, he decided to make a simple sign for me to put on the washer when there are items in the load that shouldn't be dried.

See? Scared to death. Now, what should I do with this new found power? I could use it for evil, if I wanted to, right? I'll be thinking on that while he's driving to the gas station in the bitter cold to get me that drink I demanded before I burst into tears. Poor, poor man.