So my lovely girlfriend is pregnant. It's a blissful time, to be sure, and we're both really excited about the baby. Everything's lovely most days. But then there's the odd time when those rampaging hormones churning through my girlfriend's body cause some unexpected results—for both of us. She's at most every time an easygoing, happy-go-lucky person. I can generally judge her moods and temper my own responses to suit them, and she can do the same with me. But the hormones—man, the hormones throw everything out of whack.
I have a name for her at these times: Hormone-asaurus.
This nickname doesn't always go over so well. But sometimes it does.
Anyway, it's not that she lathers up into a rage. Generally she gets hurt and maybe, sometimes, has a bit of a cry. Which is totally understandable. It's a crazy time right now: we're moving, she's moved to a new job, and yeah, there's the pregnancy. So it can be a little overwhelming. But we've known each other for years and as such, there's this loving brand of teasing between us. And again, most times it's the same as it always was.
Take last night. We're sitting watching TV. She's got this big honking body-pillow now, because it helps her sleep better. She's swaddled up on the couch with it. We're sitting together nicely, us and the body-pillow, and whatever TV show we're watching starts playing Eye of the Tiger, that old Survivor tune.
So I, Good Time Charlie that I am, start making up new verses. Serenading her, I guess.
"You've got the ... nose of a lemur! BAM!-bam-bam-bam; bam-bam-bam; buo-buo-BUO!"
"You've got the ... lips of a tree sloth! BAM!-bam-bam-bam; bam-bam-bam; buo-buo-BUO!"
"You've got the ... ears of a cobra! BAM!-bam-bam-bam; bam-bam-bam; buo-buo-BUO!"
Now normally, this would be met with laughter. Ha-ha, pretty funny Craig. But now, because of the hormones, my girfriend looked at me with tragically wounded eyes and said:
"You think I'm ugly."
No! No, I don't think that at all! But it's too late. The rogue hormones are sharking through her and I've stirred them into a feeding frenzy.
HER: "You think I have a lemur nose."
ME: "No. What? I don't even know what a lemur nose looks like, hon. You have a very cute and perfect nose. Not a lemur nose. No, I wouldn't ever say that."
HER: "You think I have tree-sloth lips!"
ME: "Absolutely not! This is crazy ..."
HER: "So you think I'm crazy?"
ME: "Huh? What's happening here? You're not crazy. No way. I don't ... listen, if a tree sloth happens to have very beautiful, lovely, feminine lips then I guess yes, okay, you have tree sloth lips."
HER: [just staring at me]
ME: "No, I mean, I'm just saying that ... tree sloths ... your lips ... no. There's no correlation. I'm just goofing around!"
HER: "Cobra ears?"
ME: "I don't think cobras even HAVE ears, baby."
HER: "So I have a weird lemur nose, awful sloth lips, and no ears?"
ME: "... I'll go throw myself off the balcony now. Excuse me."
Hormones. Watch out, fellas.
All best, Craig.