Dear iPhone stranger named Archie,
I sincerely apologize for causing your heart to unsafely palpitate, your brow to drip with fearful sweat, and your hands and lips to shake as though they were in the middle of a California-sized earthquake. I’m sure if I were a guy, and I got a random text from an unknown sender with the subject line My 17-week belly, and this picture attached:
I’d probably be close to having a heart attack, or maybe even packing my bags in rapid succession, too. So, so very sorry.
This afternoon I was engaged in an email conversation with a girlfriend of mine who has yet to see my oh-so-pregnant belly, and I was trying to describe to her the size of it. I equated it to the size of rancher, and then followed that up with predictions of being the size of a house in two or three months, and the size of an Aaron Spelling sized mansion by the end. She didn’t believe me. Shocking, I know! So, I figured I’d send her picture evidence.
I took a picture with my iPhone, and sent it via text. However, said girlfriend recently got a new number that I hadn’t yet programmed into my phone. So I had to type it in, and it seems I typed a 7 instead of a 6, and good ol’ Archie got the surprise of a lifetime.
Oops. Sorry Archie… but thanks for the well-mannered congrats 😉
Happy Friday the 13th!