I met my husband for lunch today. Whenever we get a chance to sneak away for an hour or so these days, we do. We've just gotten too busy. We met at one of our favorite haunts for a light lunch and to catch up on the day.
Our waitress today was one of our favorites. She's funny, a little quirky and just a tad, um, white trashy. She's nice, and she's a good sport, and she knows us and takes good care of us, but still - there's that WT factor. You never know when it's going to rear its head and show itself. It did today.
We hadn't seen her for a while before today. We knew she had been talking about a trip out west to get married, so we asked her whether that's where she'd been. Well, yes and no, she answered.
She and her future hubby were supposed to marry sometime around Christmas. They didn't, however, because she learned at about the same time that she is pregnant. "Oh," I exclaimed. "How lovely! Are you excited?" She shook her head that no, in fact, she is not excited. She is quite bummed about the whole notion. So I launched into my speech about how children are a blessing, how they are gifts, how they change your life for the better. You know, the speech.
"Oh yeah, I know," she replied. "It's just that we were planning to go to Vegas and get married, then take a trip. Now we can't."
"Oh sure you can!" we said to her in unison. You look great, you're not too far along to travel safely, do it! Go!"
"No. We're not going, because I can't drink. It ain't no fun if you can't drink," she lamented. "I'll have to wait until I'm at least 6 months along to do that."
Somtimes it ain't all genetic, folks.