I get stuck in a very awkward position of telling him, "But I can't!" And he says, "You don't look sick, or in labor. You can do it." "Well I know I'm not sick or in labor, but, but... The doctor said not to!" "Walking 50 feet is not going to kill you." "I CAN'T! I'M NOT ALLOWED!" Then big sighs are emitted from either party, and I keep my butt planted firmly on the couch while he goes around doing things for himself (for once) and slamming doors.
The dishes haven't been washed since I've been out of commission, and the bathroom floor looks like Aaron's personal hamper. But I am stubborn. I will not exert myself by picking up after him. I will sit here and eat Katherine's birthday cake and wait for Aunt Sue to get back from Mexico (today! hooray!).
And I'm going to try and give my blog a makeover, so don't freak out. It's time.