tonight after i got home from work, there were three things that were desperately obvious:
1. our kitchen was a total mess
2. our yard was a total mess
3. i really needed to go on a long walk
so to appease all of these, i mowed the lawn and john worked on the kitchen. i'm sure i was looking super cool huffing and puffing behind our push-mower being 9 months pregnant, but there was no way john could do it. spring time = death of john. his allergies are getting worse every day, and i'm just praying for the sweetness of summertime when he can finally breathe again and not look so much like a red-eye-rimmed meth addict.
not that it's a bad look for him, or anything.
i'm sure no one really would have noticed that it was a severely pregnant woman mowing her yard if the ice cream truck hadn't decided to stop in front of our house. i'm not sure if he thought i looked like a good customer, or what, but suddenly his van was swarming with a dozen or so kids and a few adults.
despite all of the looks of symphathy i got, no one ponied up a free push-pop.
luckily, the husby was inside scrubbing away. he smells like dish soap and miller lite. be jealous.