Welcome to a new blogging series/thing/just because I miss you people where I share snippits of life that happens between feeding Isla and well, feeding Isla.
I should preface this one by mentioning that the only people who call our house phone are my parents, my husband-when-he-isn’t-in-the-house, and those annoying recordings-trying-to-sell-double-glazing-to-people-who-rent.
And so, this morning, I get a call on the house phone. From my not-so-old midwife. About a baby group.
I may have ended the call with ‘Iloveyou, thanks.’ On autopilot, with baby brain, holding the wrong phone and thinking of other people.
And then this happened:
Neil: Did you just say ‘I love you.’?
Me: No. ‘Aye, lovely.’
Neil: No, you just told her you loved her.
Me: Did not.
Neil: Did, too.
Me: Did I?
Neil: You did.
Me: Oh, well. She already thinks I’m weird.
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