“Kevin, stop me.”
“Oh no. What? Do we have to go somewhere?”
“My crazy pregnancy maternal instincts are taking over my brain…”
“Just tell me what I have to talk you out of.”
Said really fast in hopes of trying to slide in a few exaggerations to make my point and get it all spit out before he shuts my plea down.
“There is this baby pug, black pug, that needs rescued, he is only a year old and he looked really sad in his picture and I already named him!”
Insert husband shaking head and finishing his beer I think in attempt to stand up to the crazy hormones.
“Where does he need rescued from?”
“The place he is at now.”
“He needs rescued from Craigslist…you mean a family that is selling there dog that is safe and well provided for right now?”
“They don’t love him! He needs rescued!”
“Is there any part of your brain that sees that a new baby and a new pug would probably be a little much?”
Insert long pause of defeat.
“Ok, so just love our pugs and maybe we can get a black pug one day for Noah”
“Are you alright?”
“I just love him. I am like a crazy cat lady….but with pugs.”
“That’s ok I love you anyways.”