Love SUV II

My pregnancy book tells me to be sure and tell my partner that I need extra attention and love right now, and to tell him why (basically because I'm pregnant and have hormones and sickness and lots of needs and I guess all women want extra love and attention. Apparently. Duh.).

So I dutifully explain this to Jared. He laughs. "I don't need a book to tell me that!" he scoffs.

I gape at him and try to act offended. He rubs my foot in damage-control mode. "Like it's not obvious," he says. "You're my little love-SUV," he references our recent conversation about my inefficient love-mileage.

And we've joked these last few nights that he's recently hitched a trailer onto his love-SUV and so the SUV needs more gas than ever. And he can't exactly just unhitch the trailer, so he's just gonna have to keep giving it extra gas. It's his fault there's a trailer there, after all.

I remind him about the trailer.

"Humpf." he responds. "This is not just a trailer. In the last few weeks you've gone from being an SUV to being a three hundred thousand dollar Italian sports car."

"But isn't that the car of your dreams?"

"They don't get miles to the gallon, they get gallons to the mile," he quips.

Humpf. He's right, I think. I don't have a lot to offer him these days. I'm too sick to do any cleaning, I definitely can't cook anything (I would have to smell it), I hardly work, I can't seem to bring myself to take care of any household stuff, and I mostly just demand his attention when he gets home.

But I handle like a dream where it counts. I'll have remind him of that later...