Remember how I told y’all that I have some seriously funny stories to share from the pregnancy journey so far? Well, here’s your first one. And if you laugh at me insanely and hold this story over my head for the rest of my life, I’ll completely understand because really, it’s just completely ridiculous.
For the first trimester (actually more about 16 weeks), I didn’t really have any crazy cravings other than wanting ice cream and/or apples now and again because I was too busy enjoying (did you catch my sarcasm there?) morning sickness at all hours of the day.
But slowly, I started feeling better and around week 17, I started having this intense craving for spring rolls…not the fresh rolled kind, but the bad, deep fried, nom-nom, full of salt and yumminess Chinese spring rolls. The first night I had this craving, I skipped out on cooking dinner and Amir indulged my crazy and off we went to PF Changs. (P.S. If you have a love affair with spring rolls and you haven’t tried the ones at Changs, you’re missing out.) I ate that whole plate of bad boys (and shared one solitary roll with Amir) before anyone could say “one for me, please”. My tummy was happy, I was happy and after dinner I figured I would be good and wouldn’t need another round of spring rolls for a while.
Well, I was wrong. The next day, I wanted them again. And again the day after. And this continued for about a week down the line. One night, Amir had dinner plans with one of his coworkers out in the city, so I threw out there that if he ended up going to the Thai restaurant that we love if he could grab an order of spring rolls for me. He agreed and away he went for his night out.
When he got home, I did a quick scan of his arms and noticed that he wasn’t holding anything. Nothing in a bag, nothing in his hands, no.spring.rolls.
And then this happened:
Amir: We went to this awesome Indian restaurant for dinner tonight! (It’s not even close to the Thai place, by the way.)
Me: Oh, that’s awesome. How was the food?
Amir: It was so good, babe. We have to go there sometime. You would love it!
Me: (starting to get a little emotional now) So, uh, you didn’t bring spring…*gulping down the threatening tears*…rolls?
Amir: No babe, we ended up not going to Peoples Palace, you know? We went to the Indian place instead…but I brought you back some brown people sweet stuff.
Me: Oh. I just…why don’t…you didn’t even think about…(insert the big fat huge tears here) meeeeeee.
Yes, friends. And there began the meltdown. I cried my little heart out. Over spring rolls.
The breakdown ended about 2 minutes after it started mainly because I couldn’t believe I was crying my eyeballs out and because poor Amir was staring at me with these huge eyes not sure of what to do other than rub my back and ask if he should go out and get me some rolls. Somewhere in that scene, we both started laughing our faces off and for the rest of my life, Amir will get to laugh at me for having a complete and utter freakout over not receiving spring rolls.
I would like to note that I did not ask him to run out and get me any spring rolls that night (even though the craving was real, y’all), but I did end up buying all the ingredients the next day and had our helper teach me how to make homemade lumpia (the Filipino style spring rolls) so that I could have a stash at home to eat through. I even baked them so that I wasn’t eating too unhealthy, haha.
And that, my friends, is the story of how spring rolls turned me into the crazy pregnant wife for a night. And also why Amir randomly now likes to throw out the phrase “but, you didn’t even think about me…” and then laugh hysterically. True love, y’all.
Please tell me I’m not the only one who’s ever had a love affair with food so strong that they’ve cried over it?! Anyone? Bueller?