This week my good friend @pstrack ventured down to New Orleans to watch the Razorbacks choke play in the Sugar Bowl. He was kind enough to bring me back a King Cake, which aside from the bead exchange might be the greatest part of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I am sure the king cake has a fascinating story, however I like to imagine it went a little something like this:
(setting: 2 college guys at LSU in the 60’s)
Guy 1: I’m hungry, all I got left is cake mix
Guy 2: What is that noise? I wish it would shut up.
Guy 1: That is just the neighbor’s baby.
Guy 2: Hey, I got an idea. Let’s cook the baby inside the cake.
Guy 1: I think that is murder or something. What if we just throw this little plastic baby in there?
The whole cooking a baby inside a cake freaks me out a little. At the dinner table last night while we were digging into our king cake dessert though I had an epiphany, my wife is a king cake.
I often refer to the baby (among other things) as the bun in the oven, which she absolutely hates for the record. Also recently (in what is sure to be a post soon) it has been freaking me out a little to think she has a human inside her. She is basically a walking king cake with a little less icing.
Before I get started, I have a long over-due refresh to the blog. I started this a year ago and quickly threw up a blog to just get started. Then everything happened and I never changed it. I’ve been running around like crazy with grad school now that I am blogging again and just now have time to change it. I’ll try to tweak a few things here and there but overall I think it is a welcome change.
So speaking of new things… The other day Brandie and I were sitting on the couch probably watching something involving either dancing or singing (because that is all she watches anymore) and she decided she needed a snack. So she gets up and grabs a banana and cuts up a few pieces of cheese. Naturally I think she just wanted two different things. Then I started watching her eat…
She would take a bite of cheese, chew it up a bit and then take a bite of banana. She would then start mixing them around in her mouth. I guess the crazy cravings have started.
I have been entertained lately with an email update that Brandie gets weekly about the baby. It always compares the size of the baby to food.
Initially the baby was referred to as a peanut, that was sort of funny and we had a good time with it. It has now taken on various different foods such as limes, grapes, cherries, and things like that.
Currently it is either a shrimp or a lemon, not sure what is up with that. It gets into even more strange things looking ahead such as a leek, an apricot, an eggplant, and other things that I try to avoid from my diet.
Sometimes it makes me wonder if there is a group of people out there secretly wanting to eat my baby. Heads up, my baby is not food and I will kick your butt for trying to eat it.
It seems like there are so many things that they do not tell you about this whole baby process. Food is turning out to be one of them.
I get the whole “odd things now suddenly go together” deal, that is pretty well documented. But at least so far the whole eating a lot is misleading.
For example, we went out to Whole Hog with a bunch of friends, partly because Brandie has this odd craving for BBQ chicken every since she smelled it cooking on the entire other side of Kroger one day. So we go out to eat and she does not eat that much, which has been the norm lately, and she is miserable full after.
This is the thing, while yes pregnant women like to eat, they don’t eat like normal people. It seems they eat a whole lot because they have little bitty portions, or at least so far.
This seriously disrupts our eating. We fix a meal, she eats 1/4th of it, and then 2 hours later she is eating a bag of popcorn or snacking on something else. I can’t keep up. I feel like it has made me fatter because when she gets up to fix a snack she tries to share with me, and believe me I don’t need it.
