I've read a lot about being pregnant. What to eat. What to do, sing, read and buy for baby's growth. And I've read that he feels what I feel. That my moods effect him.
But I'm starting to think my little Baby the Hut may be influencing me. Instead of getting "The Dropsies" my dexterity has increased. Instead of being forgetful, my organizational and cleaning skills are boosted.
Like last night. I'm lying in bed after having eaten my Diabetically approved diet food when a large black fly buzzed into my dimly lit bedroom. He flew past me and landed above my head. He hopped and veered toward the glowing tv showing some Indie drama I rented from Netflix. His course then changed and he was playing chicken with my head. Straight toward me he charged, hell-bent on collision - and grossing me out.
I quickly leaned right and tossed a straightened karate-chop hand in his general direction.
He died in my floor.
I had karate-chopped a fly in mid-air.
I'm the new Karate Kid.
Or Baby Harry is and I his chubby puppet.
WAX ON! WAX OFF!!!