I wake up bleary eyed, because I’ve been up three times in the night to pee. My Braxton Hicks are becoming painful, the heartburn is becoming daily, and I’ve got a sinus headache. I walk into the bathroom where Adam is rummaging around the drawer looking for a nail clip.
“Don’t you hate it?” he asks. “It’s always the little things that hurt the most. I’ve got this hangnail that’s killing me!”
All I can do is stare. When there’s no reply, he looks up at me.
“Oh,” he says. “I guess that’s not what you want to hear.”
Ya think?
