My husband, Tim, is a really great person. He’s smart, loving, good looking, laid back, even tempered and sweet. But, he is not funny. Here are a few things that my supportive husband said to me this week:
Are you going to get post-partum depression? Well, if you do, can you stop it before it happens? (sure thing, honey, I’ll just meditate really hard and stop the surge of hormone’s)
I was talking about not wanting to go into labor at work because I work with a bunch of guys and I’m worried they won’t be calm enough to get me to the hospital.
I said, “I guess I can just call an ambulance”
Tim said “Hell no, do you know how expensive that is. You can just drive yourself”
Me “WTF? You’re fucking kidding right?”
Tim “No, it’s not like it’s going to hurt that badly at the beginning, you can just drive yourself”
I continue to argue the facts about how the contractions hit every 20, 10, 5 minutes or whatever and that if I’m driving I could crash and kill myself. He stands firm that I should drive myself because the pain won’t be that bad. I can just suck it up and suffer until I get there. In the movies, the women don’t look like they are in too much pain. REALLY? In the movies? Wow. Maybe I should move 'smart' farther down the list. Poor Timmy. Anyone want to volunteer to drive me to the hospital?