Then there was last week. We were on vacay last week in Port Aransas* and T saw a pretty newscaster on TV at lunch. And says that she’s pretty. So, I do what all very-pregnant-ladies-in-need-of-a-surefire-ego-boost would do. I ask him if I’m pretty. And I get a big, fat NO. And an adamant head shake. And then he even goes as far as to clarify, in case I was wondering if he didn’t understand the question. “No, mommy not pretty.” I get it, kid, I get it.
*A family babymoon? Is there such a thing? Blog on that to come.