Allow me to set the stage:
Characters:
My Husband; dedicated husband, father and law student, also a plasma donator
My Son; 3 years old, adorable, lovable, sweet, and a mama's boy!
Myself; pregnant (enough said.)
Setting:
Our kitchen, last Thursday (or maybe it was the Thursday before... remember? I'm pregnant.)
My husband was out giving plasma (*shudder*) on his regularly scheduled Thursday morning. The morning started off normally. And here's where our story begins..
Mason was plugged into the Backyardigans, the Viking Voyage episode (one of my personal favorites; we just love the lullaby song!) and I was plugging away in my freshly cleaned kitchen. I even had on cute jammies and my little belly was just showing out from the bottom of my jamma shirt and I was having a good morning! I got out eggs and bacon and even managed to get my electric skillet out from the back of the pantry and had bacon sizzling and eggs scrambling when two things happened. One) my cell phone rang.... mind you it's about 8:15 in the morning. Who calls at 8:15 in the morning I ask you! Let me tell you: my friend Jess. She was calling me with an urgent break through in preschool news: Zoe was into the Bethel 2-year-old program! Second) my husband walked through the door.
He's so sweet, he offers to help with anything in the kitchen so I assign him the task of starting the toast--english muffins which I've already split, laid out in front of the toaster oven and have the butter dish and a butter knife ready to go. An easy task, right? Hmmm.
While I'm shooing Jess off the phone, the bacon starts sizzling a little too loudly, the scrambled eggs in the pan I realized haven't moved for at least five minutes and the toast is burning. Where is my huband? Where is my son? What is going on in my kitchen????
I shout out "the toast!" and Chris comes running out of the bathroom. The bathroom? Yes. The bathroom. ..with a toothbrush still in his mouth. Clearly, he did NOT understand the urgency in my voice when I screamed! I nearly hung up on Jess, and tried to rescue the scrambled eggs turning into an omelet... I used my (favorite Pampered Chef) spatula and did my best to get them stirred and they jumped out of the pan right onto the floor! I screamed. Then I started bawling and I retreated to my bedroom where I preceded to throw a massive tantrum.
No one ever warns you about the crazy things that happen when you're pregnant... like crying over burt toast.
