One of the things I had forgotten about when it came to her being pregnant was her nose.
Most notably that women seem to gain the nose of a bloodhound when they become pregnant.
It started out fairly innocent, her noticing smells that I couldn’t detect in the least, her being grossed out by smells that were nothing to me. But, eventually, it started progressing. And, eventually, her nose got so good that I couldn’t get away with anything. I mean ANYTHING.
We’re sitting around, hanging out and I let a silent one go. I can’t smell a thing and I think “ah, victory”. Not two seconds later she knows. She smells it. It’s really not fair, I don’t stand a chance. So I pull out the old standby.
Unfortunately, when we’re hanging out together she knows it’s a dirty lie. She’s got me dead to rights and there’s nothing I can do about it but say “it’s not that bad, I can’t smell anything”. Not that it helps me in my situation.
During the day, however, I have an out.
Because hey, why not? He does rip some really good ones, he can’t talk and she’ll believe me sometimes.
So thank you Isaac. Your inability to fully communicate is coming in quite handy these days. If your mom and I decide to ever have a third, I’ll teach you how to blame your younger sibling.
It’s only fair…