Have I ever told you about the first time I was pregnant and, because I was eating for two, decided I had carte blanche at the Mexican restaurant? I looked through the archives briefly and the answer to that question appears to be no.
I gained 50 pounds with my first pregnancy. At my last OB appointment before I gave birth I weighed over 190 pounds. True. I gained most of those pounds because I insisted upon eating at Chimi's Mexican Restaurant (when it was still good) at least three times a week. I probably ate ice cream and bread the other days of the week. And deep-dish pizza. Oh, I was a healthy one.
However, in the beginning of the pregnancy I didn't necessarily gain weight quickly and I didn't show much (you know how you think you'll find out you're pregnant and then think you're supposed to look 8 months pregnant immediately?). In fact, I was determined not to buy any maternity clothes until the very last minute. Those women who are so excited to be pregnant that they immediately went and bought out Pea in the Pod? Not me. I wasn't in that club. I was excited to be pregnant, but I was also going to make sure we did this thing frugally.
One night Husband was out with a friend. While he was gone I realized I was running low on elastic-waist pants that could hold my girth. The logical thing in my mind was to try on Husband's pants. Yes, he's 6'1". Yes, I'm 5"5'. It wasn't the length that bothered me--I could roll up the legs. Would the waist fit me?
A quick try-on told me, "You betcha!"
As Husband came through the door, I sprang up from the couch wearing his jeans and shouted, "Look! I can save us money by not buying maternity clothes yet. I'll just borrow your jeans!"
The look on the poor man's face was that of utter denial and confusion.
"But," he stammered, "I...but...I'm not as fat as you!"
Ladies. He did.
He told his pregnant wife he was not as fat as she was.
And he lives still.
It's a sign of my true benevolence, wouldn't you agree?