I oughta be in pictures

The pregnant-woman-making-her-husband-go-out-in-the-middle-of-the-night-for-ice-cream cliche (whoo, say that three times fast) has pretty much been a myth in Casa Christine. Except the other night. Man, I was having a chocolate and ice cream craving that would not quit. So I asked M to go get it for me, since I was waiting for a call.

M: But I'm in my jammies.

C: Pleeease.

M: Christine, no.

C: Pleeaaaase (starts to cry).

M (comes downstairs and sees me sobbing): Holy crap. I'll go. Just don't bug me again tonight, OK?

C (nods through her tears as M puts on his clothes and heads to the Mobil station on 117)

Now, you may think I was being manipulative. You may think I was using my pregnancy as an excuse. But really, not having ice cream was the saddest thing in the world to me at that moment. I couldn't stop crying.

And that's not all that brings me to tears nowadays. A stupid fight with my brother had me weeping at my desk. Not being able to find my necklace when getting ready for work made me sniffle. And don't even show me a baby or talk about anything like child abuse. I'll be sobbing in the bathroom.

When I was in high school, I was active in the drama club and acted in a few plays. It helped me with my natural shyness a lot. The thing is, I wasn't a very good actress. If I could cry this easily then, I would have brought down the house.