Zizza mentioned to me that her unders were feeling a bit squeezy. She has been growing a good bit so I suggested we evaluate each pair and see how many fit and how many bigger pair she needed.
She had four that were the right size.
Oddly enough, two of those that fit were from the first pack I bought for her back when she was two.
So, we went to the store. Enzo was playing with a friend so it was just me and the girls. I felt so very free.
There was no one trailing ten feet behind me unable to catch up regardless of how slow I walked. No one drug their hand along every piece of merchandise we passed by. No one ran and climbed upon the riding mowers in spite of warnings that he’d better not dare. (I guess part of that had to do with how we didn’t go to the Home Depot in search of panties.) Some one did insist on visiting the rest room. They, none of them think an outing is complete without a tour of some germy toilet or another. I said the other day “You know dears, people generally do their best not to use the bathrooms at the store,” to which Zizza replied “Why? This bathroom smells alright.”
We ventured into the baby isle and found a sale on diapers. It was the first time I’d been down that isle in 9 months. I selected some newborn size diapers in the name of nesting and went about my business.
Moo loved them. She held the package to her cheek all the way home. Once we got here she toted it around the house. “My diapers” she cooed onto the plastic wrappings of her beloved.
“No,” I said “The diapers are for the new baby. The baby in my tummy.”
I’ve tried to communicate to her just what’s coming, but it’s a hard sell. She is very aware of the oddity of my current form. She asks regularly about my swollen belly. The Duke, being a strong and active fellow, kicks punches and nudges her quite frequently as she sits upon my lap. She notices this and reacts to it but for all that I really don’t think she has any idea.