When I was pregnant I was very sensitive to smells.
This past weekend when I went to get into our van there was a half eaten Wendy's lunch sitting in there that had been sitting in the sun for the full day.
I told hubby to get it out of there as the smell would make me sick.
It was awful.
Tired Papa laughed at me and asked me if I was pregnant.
While rolling my eyes at him I answered with much sarcasm that yeah, I was and that was the only reason I wanted that vile rotting bag of mush out of the van.
Tired Papa picked up the bag of food with two fingers, held his nose and threw it out. We then carried on our way with open windows.
What I didn't know was that my youngest daughter had been listening. My youngest also hadn't caught the sarcasm in my voice.
Um world? No matter what my youngest may have whispered to you? I am NOT pregnant.
Oh, and I don't ever intend to be pregnant again and I'm very content with that. Honest engines. Three kids are what I always wanted and I'm very happy that three beautiful healthy children are what I have.
That is with the exception of days like this when I want to gag one of them.