Dear Baby: Thirty-Five Weeks, Four Days
That’s right. I actually did that. In front of a camera. And then posted the picture on the internet.
And I do believe that you’re three Chipotle burritos big! (Or, um, I’m three Chipotle burritos big. Or thirty-five burritos big, given that I’ve consumed near-weekly burritos throughout your entire gestation.)
And you know what? I’m not too proud to admit that I couldn’t even be bothered to get out of my pajamas and put some actual clothes on so that your father could take this photo. I was all, “IDEA!! IDEA!! Grab the camera before I devour this burrito and the idea becomes impossible to actualize!“
And noooo, I did not and cannot eat two burritos at once. One was your father’s. The other–the brown rice, black beans, green peppers, onions, hot salsa, cheese, lettuce, and guacamole beacon of perfection–was mine.
Yes, I am a complete and utter spazz.
You’re gonna love me for it.
p.s. Chipotle did not pay me for this post. But if the good folks there ever wanted me to shill for them on my blog, BY GOD, I WOULD DO IT IN A HEARTBEAT.