This Baby is different.
Molly demanded carbs. Bland, starchy carbs. I pretty much survived on Bob Evans’s noodles ‘n mashed taters, mac ‘n cheese, and a mandatory bagel every morning before 9 a.m. or bitch would make me kiss porcelain.
This Baby wants noting to do with that. This Baby demands spice. This Baby HATES Subway and Walmart. I’m not sure if that makes it automatically cooler or what the deal is.
While feeling particularly nauseous one morning, I went with what I know and I toasted up a bagel and slathered on some cream cheese. One bite of that, and it was over. The upchucking commenced.
So I started eyeing my lunch.
And then I ate chili.
At 9 a.m. in the morning.
Thank God no one was there to smell as I warmed it up un the ol’ microwave. It was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
I was in Walmart with a cart full of groceries when This Baby decided that I would be UPCHUCKING NOW!–so I abandoned my cart, hauled Molly to the ladies and did my business. When I came out, the friendly folks at Walmart had removed my shopping cart of its contents, and the thought of re-shopping filled my stomach with such queasiness that I just had to abandon my plan and go home empty-handed.
That’s way more dramatic than anything Molly ever did. She made me throw up in a Tim Horton’s once, but that’s about it.
Also, this baby hates bacon. Even mentioning the word bacon will send life into a tailspin.
What gives, baby?
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