The title of this post is food and that is exactly what our confrontation had to do with. At approximately 7 weeks I have not had any nausea (knock on wood!) but for the past few days my stomach is a little funny. I get very hungry and then when I start eating I lose my appetite. I'm also having bouts of mild to moderate heartburn. Not the end of the world by far. But a bit annoying. So today I left the office at exactly 5 pm and headed home with a bit of an empty stomach. I thought the whole way about what I could eat. My husband starts a trial tomorrow so it was just going to be me at home for the next few hours. I came up with a plan.
I wish I could blame the weird recipe on pregnancy, but to be honest I've always eaten like this. Here's what I did: two pieces of fried tofu on toasted bread with a vinegar cabbage and carrot slaw, mayo, and hot sauce. I don't know what you would call it, but I wanted to eat it. I sat down at the dining room table with my sandwich and my most recent Bill Bryson book. At that exact moment the doorbell rang.
Let's not distract ourselves with who rang my doorbell or what he wanted. Suffice it to say I was gone for about 5 minutes. Maybe less. But about 5. That was all the time she needed. I came back to a 9 pound dog standing squarely in the center of my dining room table scarfing down the last shred of my sandwich. Bits of cabbage were strewn from my now-empty plate to her furry little criminal paws. I have rarely felt heartbreak like this. I was crushed.
I put the dog in her crate (still licking her lips), cleaned up the remnants of my dinner-that-wasn't, and heated up some leftovers. I was still pouting when my husband came home a few hours later. And Cocoa was still in her crate. Lesson learned: don't get in between a pregnant lady and her dinner.
Of course, it's possible the sandwich-napping was payback for humiliating things I've done to her, such as:
What? Dogs can wear raincoats.
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