Hey baby, hey baby, hey.

I've been getting songs with the words "baby" and "baby boy" in my head a lot lately, which is, of course, weird because they're mostly totally inappropriate, e.g. Sean Paul and Beyonce's summer anthem from a million years ago.  And that's what I'm thinking about this Friday night as I've been relegated to the couch due to an overzealous session with a burrito at Freebird.  I know I've talked about it before, but now I really mean it.  There is no room for food in my body any longer.  Not even half a veggie hybrid (the smallest one they make).  I have begged and pleaded with K to stop me from shoving anything and everything edible within my path into my face, but I think he's afraid of my probably reaction.  As he should be.  But dude!  Help a girl out!  Yeah, I might beat you up now, but I"ll probably think about thanking you later, before I forget.  In any case, I'm washed up on the couch with Z-town watching some TLC, heating pad blazing on my back while watching your little limbs make waves on my belly.  While I'm excited* for your arrival, I'm really going to miss my little internal roommate.  I'm sad thinking about it now. 

*"excited" is my PC way of saying scared shitless.