Pregnant, My Foot!

(I meant to post this yesterday when I wrote it, but my brain isn't working at top speed these days...)

I just remembered one of my grandfather's many fake cuss words (something I seem to have inherited a tendency towards, by the way), and that is: MY FOOT!

I don't know how I could have forgotten it, since he pretty much used it all the time.

Example:

Kids: "We're going to climb that tree."
Grandfather: "Climb that tree, MY FOOT!"

Kids: "We're going eat ice cream for dinner."
Grandfather: "Ice cream, MY FOOT!"

Wow--really need to bring that one back...

Anyway, this entry is not really about old-fashioned fake cussing. And it's not even about complaining. ("Complaining, my FOOT!")

It's actually about something really nice...a foot massage.

A professional foot massage.


I just got back from having a trained professional rub my nasty pregnant-lady feet, and I am feeling fine...

In fact, I am feeling so fine that I can barely put together a decent sentence.

Toooootally worth getting pregnant for, by the way. (Yes, my sweet husband arranged this for me, much like he did for my last two pregnancies. You'd think he'd learn...)

And can I just say...Ahhhhhh...

Yes, it is still 100 degrees outside. And, yes, I still have to deal with a million details before having this baby and moving to another state, but I. don't. care. --I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

Because my feet feel gooooooood.

:^)