90 days to go

And the baby wanted a 5th Avenue bar today. I am here to tell you that no candy bar has ever tasted as delicious to me as the 5th Avenue I decided to indulge in after my physical therapy appointment today. I stand firmly behind the idea that 5th Avenues are a world away from a Butterfinger. Just like the most loyal Coke or Pepsi fan, I not only taste a difference, but I taste a difference to the point where I will not even eat a Butterfinger.
They just suck. The peanut butter stuff is too tacky and hard or something.
It tastes like peanut brittle inside chocolate, where a 5th Avenue is like finely placed layers of crisp peanut butter toffee or something. Yes, it is different.
The baby and I both know it.
That is all I have to report today.
That, and the fact that the physical therapist said "it must be pretty exciting knowing that you are getting close to the end of your pregnancy". I said "Yep, it sure is." I am ready for this to be over. The novelty has worn off.
I am thankful that it has been pretty easy up until now, despite the peeing all the time and constant hunger, waddling, sciatic nerve problems, indigestion, sore boobs and a few other things, it hasn't been bad, but I have to say, I am ready to have a go at the kid that has been kicking me for 6 weeks.
On the way to get Dairy Queen tonight(my second dessert), Mr W. said to me again "I hope our kid isn't ugly." I notice that he seems to be pretty worried about this. I worry that the baby is OK, and he seems to mostly worry that the baby will be ugly.
I remind him that neither of us are that ugly(at least in my opinion), and decide to leave it at that.
Let's just hope that Baby W doesn't inherit Daddy's lousy self image issues or the counseling will seriously dip into his college fund.