𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑂𝑛 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑂𝑤𝑛 𝐾𝑖𝑑

Family Are The Worst - XXIX

23rd November

You remember when you were a kid and you were always told to not play with your food.

Yeah, well, sometimes, when you’re an adult, some things about that can change.

Like when you’re pregnant and craving some really weird stuff.

The only problem with that though is when it’s a fancy meal with a lot of your relatives who don’t know you’re three months pregnant, and still prone to puking at the smell of things like strawberry.

Now, I didn’t like strawberry flavoured or scented things in the first place, and have a terrible gag reflex for them, so when I found out I puked at the smell of them, it was an easy way of getting rid of all the strawberry things from the castle.

Today though, a lot of those things had to be brought back in for the dessert tonight for thanksgiving.

Let me tell you that I have spent half of today with my head over the toilet, and I’m definitely not very thankful for as far as today goes.

Nevermind the impending doom I was feeling about all my aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents coming over.

{----------}

I sat in my study, staying away from the smells of outside and focusing on the work that needed to get done so I could take a day off on Christmas and Boxing day, when I heard a small knock at the door before Jameson poked his head around the door.

“Hey Jamie,” I say, looking up with a tightlipped smile before returning to my paperwork.

“Hey,” Jameson says, walking into the room fully, “How are you doing?”

I look up, setting my pen down as I did so, leaning back in my chair and sigh, “I’m doing okay, but I think you would rather talk to our bathroom toilet about that.”

Jameson laughs and walks around to the side of the desk I was on and perches himself on the edge of it, careful not to knock to Star Puzzle on the edge of it.

“That bad?” He asks and I raise my eyebrows and nod in response before I do so verbally.

“Yep. You can only imagine what I’ll be like when dinner comes around and I’m in front of my relatives,” I say, trying to not think about the nightmare of a meal I was about to have.

“Look, at least you don’t have to deal with them at lunch as well. My family’s coming over for that,” Jameson grumbles and I laugh, knowing he didn’t exactly like being babied by his Mum.

“At least I like your family, I barely know half of mine, and the other half I heavily dislike,” I grumble back in the same tone.

“Yeah, speaking of my family, they kind of don’t know about the baby…” Jameson says, trailing off at the end, a guilty look on his face and I laugh, not really caring just now, because I know if it was anyone else, on any other day, I would be pissed.

“It’s fine. We agreed to tell them when we were ready, and today, we are clearly not,” I slowly said in a very relaxed tone compared to what was going on in my head.

“Alright, good to know. My question really is, do you think you’re going to survive dinner without doing something like adding chilli powder to your turkey,” He then says, and that’s when I turn away and make up a response that was clearly so funny, that Jameson tripped over thin air.

“Say that to your brussel sprout flavoured ice cream from the summer.”

And with that Jameson then leaves me to my work, kissing my forehead before he goes and then leaves the room, and sadly, one of the next times I fully expect to see him is surrounded by the people I hate.