I do not know where he may have caught that.
This is not because I plan to paint the room of my future pullet, do all the wash-dry-on-the-rope-a-ling-and-folding of the household, scrubbing floors to fours to clean the fridge from top to bottom, sort clothes that are more girls to go buy it I miss the arrival of the little maid, cook oatmeal-chocolate cookies, two loaves zucchini and roast beef with mustard and everything on the same day that I can be described as excessive. Honestly. It irritated him for nothing.
worse to be honest, it sickens me as dirty as the days have only 24 hours. Because I wanted to install the moldings in the room baby # 3, set up his changing table and wash all his little pajamas and then put them in his dresser.
I also had enough energy to learn the multiplication tables up Filou 18. To put some order into the closet and entry to fill my freezer dishes ready for the evenings where I want to strike the oven.
"Honey, would you help me up the trampoline. It's a beautiful day for it, right?"
him, he collapses under a pile of written work to correct (it is a French teacher in high school). That my daughters can skip to the sunny today, is the least of his worries. So you can imagine the look he gave me?
"Ge, it does not tempt you to relax a little? To watch TV, go take a bath, call Danny. I do not know, but something that would allow you to rest. "
Uh ... no! Not a shred of envy. But not the time. You speak of an idea!
This willingness of all polish, any store, prepare everything completely obsesses. He can not understand it, him. He is a man. With all that it entails. He, he intends only his stack correction. That's approaching the end of step. And he must deliver his ballot to pc notes. He does not see all the work that is done. Everything must be done before the big day all what to provide for the arrival of Boum Boum.
See, there, I write my column and I have the impression of wasting my time. Because that instead of sitting quietly in front of my computer to let my fingers strumming on my keyboard, I could install the fixture in the nursery. I could go grocery shopping for the next six months. I could vacuum in my car.
"But what's happening with you, darling?" Wonder he anxiously in front of my little panic-of-time-it-is-us.
And here I loses it in front of her insensitivity to my sense of urgency. Before his nonchalance towards my long list of six feet.
"Hey, We have ONLY 13 weeks to do ANYTHING. We will not succeed if we do not put it now. There. Immediately. Right fucking now. Because we could end in the air when the dirty little will happen and that his bed is still in pieces in the shed. We're going to sleep where, huh? In a drawer? "
" But Ge is still three months this. Three very long months. It does not take three months to assemble a bassinnette. I've never mounted, but I think we should have quite a good afternoon to do that, right? "
You acknowledge here the characteristics of the typical male: minimize the huge problems of their joint adored.
It was too much for the very pregnant girl I am. I left his red pen saying: "Never mind, I'll Sort this out alone." I screwed up a load of towels in the washer, I painted the trim of the room and I sulked all weekend due to the limited understanding of love.
So here, my man has learned a new term this weekend to nest.
And he also learned that you should never push a girl pregnant at the end ...
Patience, dear, he will have three months to put up with me looooong!
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