We were feeling lazy the other night, so we went to Wendy's for dinner. Apparently, eating inside a fast food restaurant is an amazing treat to our kids. They were so excited about it. As we were walking inside, Preston said, "I want one of those things that are like a chicken nugget, except it's really big and it's inside two pieces of bread." "Um, you mean a chicken sandwich?" "Yeah, a chicken sandwich. I want one of those."
Incidentally, Wendy's fries are not gross anymore. And the only people who seem to eat inside Wendy's are older couples and construction workers. And us.
I got a massage today. It's the first one I have ever had while pregnant. There were weird pillows that I was supposed to lie down on with cutouts for my belly and my boobs. The massage therapist was waiting outside a curtain while I got adjusted. After a few minutes, she asked, "Are you okay in there?" I finally got settled, and when she came in, she asked, "What was taking you so long?" It was embarrassing to admit that it was hard to get adjusted in the pillows because my boobs were way too small for the cutouts. And here I was thinking that I was finally becoming voluptuous.