Big S and I went on our second “run for your dinner” run. Last week I straight up lied and told him Moes was only .7 miles away from our house. When really it was closer to a mile and half.
That’s probably wrong.
But I had to get him to run somehow.
So we ran about 2.7 miles and got ourselves some dinner and some cupcakes.
Then tonight I gave Big S the option of either running to Moes again or to Subway for dinner.
Or Dominos. But for some reason, I couldn’t convince him to run nearly 2 miles back home with a box of pizza. Personally, I think that would have been pretty hysterical. Just me, all pregnant, pushing little s, and big s slowly running behind me with a box of pizza all the way down Ridgefield Rd. But oh well.
So we went to Subway. I feel like I seriously have something written on my face that says “Please say awkward things to me.”, because this girl who was ringing us up was like
“So, did you guys run here? You’re kinda sweaty.” My initial instinct was to say something sarcastic like “No. We were just watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse before we drove here.” But I just said “Yeah. We ran down Ridgefield.”
“Oh, that’s good. Are you trying to get back in shape?”
Girl, you just insinuated that I’m not already in shape to a woman whose 16 weeks pregnant and probably works out more than you do.
“No. I’m pregnant. So I really don’t care about being in shape as much as I care about being healthy for the baby.”
“OH! I wanted to ask. You look like you could be. But asking is rude.”
Good to know she has some sense of tact. Maybe it’s not about a woman being self conscious about their post partum body, but at least she makes the line somewhere.
So then we ran home. And enjoyed our sandwiches.
Also, this is me attempting to not show off how big my mouth is. This is like, half open for me. Andddd apparently, Big S doesn’t believe in eating a sandwich with his shirt on.
Then Big S’s tooth fell out. While eating a sandwich. Because we all know how incredibly hard sandwiches are…
When Big S was 10 he was playing basketball. On roller blades of couse. Because everyone knows of the olympic sport RollerBall. It’s played by 10-50 year old boys who want to lose their teeth. And possibly any chance of meeting girls. But, huge shocker, he fell and hit the pavement and broke his tooth in half.
(Btw, this is what I think of when I think of roller blading. Though I seriously, seriously doubt this is how Big S looked, however I have no pictures of proof. Maybe this was his RollerBall teams uniforms. Who knows.)
Then they tried to fix it by basically gluing his broken tooth back to itself. Which worked until he ate a frozen chocolate bunny for Easter. Why it was frozen? I don’t know. Big S is weird. So then his dentist decided to just leave his tooth and glue a replacement tooth over it.
I’ve never seen his broken tooth until tonight. It’s pretty hilarious. I would show you a picture, but he won’t let me. Hmfph. The internet needs all his broken toothed glory!
On a different note though, I didn’t even feel sick today. Not even for a minute. Maybe Baby B has decided to let me enjoy food again!