This is what I’ve looked like every time my phone rang today:
But alas, each call was a false alarm. Future grandson, who continues to incubate on the evening of his due date, has yet to show his squished little chubby pink face.
Everyone around me is rather sick of me and my grand-baby obsessiveness, I’ll admit it. That’s fine, I’m sick of them, too. Son Tyler (baby daddy), actually called me today and this is how it went:
Phone: Ring Ring!
Me: (See photo above; that was my response after seeing who was calling.) EEEEEE!
Tyler: Hey mom, what was that lunch place you were telling me about?
Me: You are calling me at work on the due date to ask about LUNCH?!?
Tyler: Uhhh, the place with good salads?
Me: Don’t call me again until you have a BABY IN YOUR HANDS!
And then there’s the hubby. James wanted to leave today for an Idaho RV trip.
Me: Have you hit your head? Are you feverish? That’s the freaking due date!
Hubby: So, that means no trip?
As you can see, they’re all rather irritating, and clearly not focused on my quest-to-get-grandbaby-in-my-arms. Obviously, my daughter-in-law Anna (baby mommy) hasn’t been chopping enough wood or shoveling enough dirt in the yard. Let’s get this show on the road, kids. I’m heading over there with a shovel and ax right now.