Zach is the best when it comes to care and feeding of a pregnant wife.
One weekend evening he made me the most delicious tacos, and only complained a little when he learned the next day that I had taken ALL the leftovers to my office to eat taco salads for three days in a row.
He didn’t complain too much when I ate all his frozen Amy’s Burritos that one week.
He never complains that I don’t make him any breakfast on weekdays, even though I make myself two eggs, toast, and fruit almost every morning. He also never complains about the house smelling like a fried egg nearly every morning.
Yesterday when I was pouting about all the margaritas I was missing this summer, and all the White Russians I want but can’t have, he reminded me that chocolate milk is not exactly the same as a White Russian, but equally awesome. Then he took me to get chocolate syrup.
Last night he cooked me a giant pot of jambalaya on request though I had to promise not to take all the leftovers to work this time. I did bring a dish to work today, and it’s so freakin’ delicious.
He has taken me to eat Mexican food more times than I can count.
This post reminds me, I’m very grateful I don’t get heartburn (so far).