Sam won this cruise back in 1996.
I know it was 1996, cause I was eight months pregnant with Jayden, our first-born.
I was big.
I worked back then for a Title Company. We did closings on mortgages and properties. We entertained a lot of clients, therefore, we went on client lunches almost everyday. We went to Olive Garden, and Chili's and The Outback.
I gained fifty pounds.
Jayden weighed in at a whopping 8 1/2 pounds, and not the 38 1/2 pounds that I was hoping he would weigh...so well, you do the math.
I was big.
Plus, I got what they call Toxemia. Which is nothing more that extreme bloating. That was pretty.
Anyway, Sam won this cruise.
We were excited about it!
So we flew in and boarded the boat.
It was huge!
We were feeling pretty ritzy.
Apparently Sam was feeling really ritzy.
I am not sure what those shorts were.
I don't remember them, but I am sure Bill Cosby wants them back.
Lets go in for a closer look, shall we?
And before you comment on my maternity, um, jumper? Take a good look. It is crucial to the story that will unfold.
Ah, the maternity jumper.
When you are as large as a barge, there is not much in the tent and awning department to fit you at eight months. And bear in mind, this was the 90's.
Floral was hot, baby. I wore that jumper a lot.
So much in fact, that all I had to do was stand it in the corner at night, and then in the morning, I would whistle and say "Here, girl!" and it would walk on over to me.
I wore it to embark on the cruise ship, obviously.
And we got on the boat, and we watched as the boat pulled away from the dock, and cheered with everyone else. Giddy to be on vay-cay....
Then we went back to the room, and unpacked.
The room was the size of a broom closet. Very hard to maneuver when you are as round as you are tall. The bathroom was very small and had one of those swooshy sucky toilets like they have on airplanes. With the blue water.
Anyway, back to unpacking.
Well guess what was in my bag?
Maternity shirt A.
Maternity shirt B.
Maternity shirt C.
I looked again, I shook the bag. I said a little prayer for my maternity pants to magically appear...ohpleaseohpleaseohplease...
I was stuck, in the middle of the ocean.
With only my jumper.
I was the only pregnant lady on board, but I still checked the gift shop. Maybe, oh maybe they had some XXL black drawstring pants? Maybe?
No, they did not.
Needless to say, what little self-esteem I had jumped overboard and drown in the churning wake of the cruise ship.
Every morning I begrudgingly put on the jumper.
There is NO possible way a very pregnant lady can be inconspicuous in a floral jumper. And I felt so guilty eating at the buffets. The preggo jumper lady? Again?
Our first port was in Mexico.
Here is the jumper.
Oh, and me.
I am buying some accessories to go with the jumper. You know, there is nothing like some good accessories to change your look up. (eyeroll)
When we got back on the boat, we made a beeline for our room.
Sam had to use the *ahem* facilities.
And use them he did.
He clogged up the whole toilet.
He clogged it good.
He clogged it somehow so the flap thingie that flushes was clogged wide open.
It was whoooshing and whoooshing...
I am not sure what he was thinking, but he grabbed a coat hanger and tried to um, plunge things down with that.
So now, picture this, clogged toilet, and um, coat hanger.
I told him he needed to call housekeeping.
They assign workers to each room, and our little workers could come fix it.
He said he was too embarrassed to do that.
It was time for dinner, and my jumper was hungry.
I told him to call, and we could leave, and have them fix it by the time we get back.
Here is how it went down:
(Him) "I am NOT calling, you call."
(me) "I didn't clog it, you call."
(him) "Oh, fine." <---all huffy and stuff
(him) "Hello? Yeah, this is room XXX and I just needed to call and see if someone could fix our toilet. My wife is pregnant, and she clogged it up real good."
He really did.
So the rest of the cruise, I just know those guys talked about me.
And the coat hanger.
So this is why, my blog reading friends, every so often, I tell you stories about my dear husband that are not 100 percent complimentary to him.
I owe him a lot of payback.