THIS is what I’m talking about.  See?  Pregnant woman can ROCK.

An interesting debate.  I, personally, am not fond of anything beyond slight contact.  My husband believes we should dry hump at dinner.

Yesterday, my husband beat me home and he was installing a new ceiling fan in the nursery.  We hated the old fan, a piece of junk that made more noise than breeze, and he had picked up a very colorful one to replace it.  I helped him where I could (which, at this point in the game, is not much), and then he left to attend football practice for The Boy.

While he was gone, I washed and febreezed the new bed linens for the crib and placed them where they need to be.  Should our child be delivered, say, tomorrow.. he now has somewhere soft and chic to sleep.  I am in love with this bed set and can’t wait to do more with it.

When Bryan got home, he mentioned the fan and I asked if he had seen the crib.  He went in the nursery and gasped, clasped his hand to his mouth, and went through (what I assumed to be) many phases of “Aww, cuteness”.  Suddenly, over the voice of Tim Gunn, I hear, “Sarah!  C’MERE, C’MERE, C’MERE!”

I was hoping to walk over and share the overwhelming gorgeousness that our nursery is moving closer towards, and instead, Bryan says, “LOOK!  A PENIS!”

Sure enough:

So .. see?  It IS manly. (Or gay.)