|Will this be the Little Alien and me in three years?|
I and my ravenous babe-in-utero find ourselves on the prowl for food any time from midnight on, most nights. These foraging missions may result in a bowl full of cereal and resultant heartburn or in (if I'm lucky) an apple and sweet sleep. By far, though, our go-to midnight snack is wheat thins, rescued from the crackling bag at imminent risk of waking my slumbering sweetheart, and consumed in bed gratefully. Baby starts kicking and I (hopefully) make it back to my interrupted dreams without too much hassle.
But oh, the crumbs in the bed! Oh, the scratchy remnants of wheat thins long gone, carving their shapes into my tender skin! And oh, the incessant irritation of having finally found a comfortable place for my husband, my huge belly, and myself, only to realize a full sheet-sweep needs to take place!
I hate crumbs in the bed.