It’s only been a little more than two years since I’ve dealt with “Knocked Up MJ.” But even though only a couple of years have passed, I seem to have forgotten one very important fact:
Pregnant women are crazy. Seriously fucking nuts.
I swear to all things holy that the following conversation happened this morning verbatim, while I was in the shower and MJ was getting ready for work.
ME: “Hey baby, you look really nice today.”
MJ: “You are such an asshole.”
I swear to you, that’s exactly how it went down. Word for word. She was mad because she thought I was making fun of her and her protruding belly. Even though I’m on the record as saying pregnant women are ridiculously hot and my wife is Queen of the preggo hotness, she thought I was somehow being derogatory. It took me a good five minutes to convince her that all I was doing was telling her she looked really great. And that’s because she’s crazy. Totally batshit crazy.
I completely forgot how mental pregnant women are. Especially during the first trimester.
First of all they can’t stop eating. They must feed. Constantly. And if you don’t feed them or if you stand between them and a meal, they will end your life and eat your soul. NEVER mess with a pregnant chick’s food. But the ironic thing is most of them are also experiencing morning sickness. So on one hand they can’t stop eating, but they also can’t stop throwing up. It’s quite the dichotomy.
Then there’s the phenomenon known as “Pregnancy Brain.”
I’m not making that up, that shit is real. Symptoms include but are not limited to forgetting everything, dropping shit everywhere, mood swings and ALWAYS being tired. Now keep in mind, MJ was already a consummate professional when it comes to losing things like her car keys or debit card. But now that she’s pregnant, I’m going to have to staple the goddamn thing to her forehead. Not to mention she trips over nothing. Honestly. She’ll be walking around the condo and she’ll stumble, but there is no kid’s toy or bunched up carpet in sight. It’s like invisible gnomes are laying trip wire around the house.
But the main thing is that every single emotion MJ is feeling gets ratcheted up to insane proportions. The littlest things become big deals and the big deals become massive, life-ending crises. If you I say something that I think is innocuous but pisses her off, it’s all over. And, if you haven’t learned by now, I say dumb shit all the time that gets me in trouble.
Not to mention pregnant women in their first trimester aren’t known for their raging libidos. We haven’t gotten our freak on since “Bandit” (that’s our official nickname for Baby #2 due to the raccoon incident) was conceived. Which makes me a sexual sniper of sorts. A lonely, frustrated sexual sniper. I finally got up the nerve to proposition MJ for a little lovin’ and she nearly threw up at the thought of it.
Nice to know I still have a way with the ladies.
CHECK OUT FATHERHOOD FRIDAY OVER AT DAD-BLOGS, WHERE I KNOW AT LEAST SOME OF THOSE GUYS FEEL MY PAIN.