Heathers hilarious post at Notes from Lapland reminded me so much of M and inspired this post.
For those of you who don't know, M's my husband. He's not had too many mentions of late, mainly due to the fact that I've seen very little of him since his new Playstation game arrived.
Picture the scene, its 5am on a Friday morning and my contractions start, quickly followed by my waters breaking. I decide to let M sleep as he was late in from work the night before. Between contractions I put some washing on, clear a bit of ironing, do the washing up, have a quick hoover round and feed the dog. By 7am my contractions are coming thick and fast so I decide to wake M and tell him the news. His exact words were "Right, I'll have some weetabix then we'll go".
Half an hour later we set off for the hospital. M decided to take a detour. "Where are you going" I screamed. "To Somerfield. I'll need some supplies for during the day" he replied. I sat in the car timing my contractions, which by this time were four to five minutes apart while M strolled round the supermarket filling his basket with goodies.
When we got to the hospital I thought that would be it. He was well stocked up for the day so I thought he'd remain by my side, the dutiful husband. I was wrong. We'd been there less than an hour when he piped up "I'm just going to get some sandwiches from the canteen for later. Just in case it closes". During the rest of my long and painful labour he proceeded to consume said sandwiches, the bag of supermarket supplies plus hot cross buns, toast and more sandwiches lovingly prepared by the midwives. Yes,you heard right, the midwives!
After a long and agonising delivery, M's first words? "There, that wasn't as bad as you thought was it?" I didn't have the energy to do any more than pinch him. But pinch him I did, hard.
Home Thoughts from Abroad
18 hours ago