Promises

Do you guys remember how there was a treadmill in the baby's nursery? If you need to refresh your memory, click to see pictures of the nursery here. Anyway, now that Bella is sleeping and napping in her nursery, it means that the times to use the treadmill are few and far between. So I have been begging Husband for weeks to move the treadmill back into our bedroom so that we could be able to exercise during her naps and after she goes to bed at night. Husband was being Grumpy McPissertons about this, because less than two years ago I begged him to move the treadmill OUT of our bedroom. He finally agreed to do it, as long as I promised I would never ask to move it again as long as we live here. He wanted it in writing.

[Husband's comment: Keep in mind that I had already moved this treadmill twice before and now I was moving it back to the exact location that I had moved it from. That kind of stuff just doesn't jive with being efficient, now does it? Having it in writing is just good business sense ;)]

So, we spent a couple hours taking the treadmill apart and moving it to the nursery. [Husband's comment: We? Hmph.] After all that manual labor, we were super hungry. [Husband's comment: Yes, WE were.] We decided to get Chipotle to reward ourselves. Normally, we order a burrito bowl and chips and split it. Husband was certain he wanted an entire burrito bowl for himself. I reminded him of the folly of this notion and how eating the full burrito bowl has never ended well in the past. A stomach is only designed to hold so much food. He insisted. And then whined the whole night about being too full. And he also may have been more, uh, flatulent than usual. [Husband's comment: TMI, even for a TMI-happy person. Want to talk flatulence? How about, um, months one through nine of your pregnancy?] [Laura's comment: Touché, Husband, touché.]

In the end, I wasn't the only one putting a promise in writing.