Last night, while watching ‘Knocked Up’ on HBO.
Me: Man, I hope you’re prepared for how gross I’m going to be when I’m pregnant.
Taylor: What do you mean?
Me: Well, I’ll gain a bunch of weight in weird places and have like flobby arms and lots of chins, and I’ll like, have to pee all the time and be constipated in weird ways.
Taylor: Whoa there.
Me: I’m kind of tempted to just try to gross you out as much as I can before then, just to make sure you’ll stay.
Taylor: Haha! Aww. I’m sure you’ll be fine, lovey.
Me: It doesn’t help that I’m short. Short girls look weird when they’re pregnant. Tall girls just get all elegant. It’s like a fashion statement. Short girls look like…like fat hobbits.
Taylor bursts into a fit of uncontrollable sniggering.
Taylor: Okay, Samwise.
Me: Ha! “Honeeeeeey, I can’t figure out how to put this crib togetherrrr!”
Taylor: “Stupid fat hobbit!”
Me: “Honeeeeeey, we should get some potatoes at the store!”
Taylor: “What’s taters, precious? What’s taters?”
Me: I’ll develop an odd fascination with rings at that point, but hopefully we’ll already be married.