After a great doctor's visit on Tuesday, Jeff and I decided to treat ourselves to something magical and delicious. It being snack time and all, we toyed with the idea of swinging by our favorite sushi restaurant for a late-afternoon roll, but then we got stuck in traffic by Michigan Avenue and found a nirvana:
Garrett's Popcorn. I have been smelling these kernels for years and never stopped. One random day when I was about 7 seconds pregnant, I told Jeff I wanted some caramel popcorn from Garrett's. Since it was about 10:00 p.m. on Sunday night and there is no popcorn hut in our hood, I basically made do with a quizzical look from Jeff and some pudding.
But not on Tuesday. We brashly parked our car in a 15-minute zone and got ourselves some caramel and cheese popcorn. I was set on the cheese popcorn since I needed protein. Jeff got the caramel and the combination, which frankly sounds absurd, was more delicious than any nigiri I have ever had. Was there butter to spare? Yes. Was a roll of napkins insufficient for us? Yes. Did we arrive at home to relieve the nanny with neon orange fingertips? Yes. Was it worth it? HELLS YES!
The occassion for the artery-clogging snack was jubilation at hearing Cherry's heartbeat. It was about 160. I had a brief moment where I wondered if I am actually giving birth to a hummingbird, but the doctor didn't seem concerned that my offpring would emerge winged and pecking at the window, so we went with it.
There is nothing in the world like hearing your baby's heartbeat. I have also decided that having such a fit young fetus in my womb may be part of the reason why I am so hungry. Maybe he/she is using the umbilical cord as a jump rope. Whatever is happening, I am sure it was aided and abetted by copies handfuls of popcorn.