Hello, beautiful!

I am happy to report that our brand-spanking new Solsta sleeper sofa has arrived! I have a feeling the delivery guys may start stalking me. They seemed really taken in by my early-morning beauty and puppy paw print pajamas, my fuzzy hair, pale face and enormous belly, not to mention the fact that I was washing dishes when they rang the bell and went to the door still wearing my orange rubber gloves. How does anyone resist, I ask? (Aren't they supposed to call before they come so you can put on sweat pants!?!?) Anyway, there is a huge box in the middle of the living room, which Marcus will open and assemble when he gets home today. The best part is that this means goodbye to the futon. The nasty, bulky, uncomfortable, collegey-looking futon! Sure, it's served our sitting needs, but it's time to be grown-ups and have a real couch. (this is where you judge me a little because our "real, grown up couch" is from Ikea...) I'm terrified to find out what is under there, though. Old newspapers? Dead bugs? Dust bunnies? That green pea I dropped during dinner last week? I may leave while Marcus moves it out of here. I"ll come back when my beautiful new sofa is assembled. Happy Jen.

I have to share a funny story with you now. You know how sometimes young ladies who are a big, um, chunky, wear shirts that are a little tight? And sometimes their fat rolls stick out from under their shirts? Well, my dear husband refers to that as "Looking like a busted can of biscuits." Years ago when we were in college, I made him promise to tell me if I ever looked like that. Fast forward to last night, 8 years after that initial conversation. My belly is big, no denying it. I had on a size small maternity top, which I swear shrunk in the wash, and some sweat pants, which I wore slung under the belly. So some of my tummy was sticking out the bottom of my shirt. Marcus came in from work, took one look at me, started giggling and said "Baby, you look like a busted can of biscuits!" I laughed harder than I have in months. He took me to the mirror to show me our "little biscuit." And he was right. At least he's true to his word. :)