I discovered today that it is probably best not to expose my kids, particularly my 10-year-old, to my pregnancy cravings lest they take the opportunity to make fun of their poor aged mother.
Lucy and I stopped at the grocery store on our way to ballet rehearsal this evening. We hadn't had much dinner, and all of a sudden the chocolate covered pretzels near the checkout seemed absolutely necessary to my survival.
Just as the clerk was about to put them in a bag, I made a save by saying, "I'll just hang on to those."
My sweet little daughter's response: "Nice dinner, Mom. My compliments to the chef."
She definitely has her father's sense of humor.
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