There are things in this house that don’t belong.

Nearly a week has passed and they continue to taunt me.

Every morning they greet me downstairs, sniggering.  After each meal in the kitchen, they sit beside me, mocking me for thinking I was full and satiated.

These lousy neighborhood kids and their foolish manners, have they no clue?

Don’t they realize when someone holds out a bowl full of candy at the door, you should take more than just one? Help a pregnant lady for crying out loud.  Just because I look like I swallowed a toddler whole doesn’t mean I will.

I mean really.  The last thing I need is a stash of leftover candy in the house to carry my sugar high into Thanksgiving.

My pregnancy with Babisodes somehow managed to skip right over the holidays.  Well, the fattening ones at least.

She was deprived of delicious pies, turkeys, and any gluttonous goodness the holidays have to offer.

This baby girl I’m pregnant with right now? I have hunch her first words may be, “Sni-ker” or “choc-lit.”

Perhaps all of this kicking and punching down there is just morse code for- Unwrap another!  Either that or she has a sixth sense for sucrose and does a happy dance when high-caloric foods are nearby.

All I know is that I really hope I don’t have go on bed-rest again.  I cannot afford to turn into veal while trapped in the supine position.  Not with Thanksgiving and ChristmaHanuKwanzadan on the horizon.

Muscles will atrophy as cellulite takes over.

Anyone want some candy?

Please take more than one.