Operation Eggplant

This morning, as I was reflecting on all of the advice that I got from my last post (thanks everyone!), something inside of me snapped. I became a woman on a mission. My mission: get this child OUT OF ME. I know that I am only one day late...and that many women (especially first time moms) go way longer than I have...but I am so type A and this is killing me. Just the fact that anything associated with me has the word "late" attached to it makes me want to pull my hair out one angry strand at a time.

So this morning I woke up and promptly kicked my husband out of bed so that I could clean the house...starting with the bed he was occupying, of course. Two floors of scrubbed tiles and hardwoods later I began to think that this Old Wives Tale is probably not an Old Wives Tale, at all...it is probably an Old Husband's Tale. Some evil man out there, in an effort to give his over-pregnant wife something to do...and because I am sure he thought it was hilarious (he is evil, remember) made this one up.

When the floor scrubbing did not work, I decided that I was going to hunt down some Eggplant Parmesan to eat for lunch. We live in a very small town, so this was no minuscule task. Then I found it...approximately 30 minutes away, in Manchester, a labor-inducing-dish was waiting for me, ready to cure me of my achy back and pelvis. So we drive (Graham goes with me because, frankly, at this point I am sure he fears for his life, or at least for his most prized appendage, should he say no).

We get to Bertucci's and sit down. In all honesty I am not really looking forward to this meal from an eating standpoint because I am not a big fan of eggplant. In fact, I have only ever had it in breaded, fried and cheese-covered form (and what wouldn't be good prepared that way?). I order the Eggplant Parma...and here is where my troubles began. "Oh" she says "That isn't breaded. Just thought I would let you know. That changes some people's minds." Not? Breaded? Gross. But I forge ahead. There is no other comparable dish on the menu, and this is still the closest to the real thing.

Then our meal comes. Apparently the waitress misunderstood. She must have thought I had ordered "Poop-plant Parmesan". Not only is it not breaded, but it is not fried, and it is not smothered in cheese. It is barely dusted with cheese.

I start making gagging noises, and Graham looks at me, disappointed. I know that I am being a baby...an embarrassing-to-be-seen-with-23-year-old-child, but I truly think that I am going to be sick if I attempt to eat this dish...I have not had any food aversions so far in this pregnancy (in fact, I have been less picky than usual)...but even the smell grossed me out.

"You said you would do anything" my nemesis taunts. I take a fork-full.

It is literally the slimiest, most horrible thing that I have ever put in my mouth. I have not felt so disgusted by food since the time, when I was 11, I threw up at the dinner table after my Dad made me eat scrambled eggs. Apparently I have food texture issues.

I get about five bites down...three of them accompanied by a large chunk of bread (to help with the texture). Every fork-full makes my body convulse. I am done. Operation Eggplant was the most gigantic of failures.

Oh, and I am taking the baby ticker off of my site because it is mocking me. "You're baby is 1 day old". Stupid ticker, I hate you.


Jim Altieri said...

You must not have heard the 'whole' wives tale..... you eat the eggplant and then get sick from it, and the heaving is what causes the contractions. You didn't follow through. (I jest, but from a safe distance half way across the state and through the internet).

Katie Slater Photography said...

Girl! You have no clue what's coming; just sit back, relax, and enjoy the (presently very quiet) ride, it's almost over. Savor it. Hold your husband's hand, listen to music, read a book, smell up your doggie, cuz it'll be a while before you do those things again.

Debbie downer's goin' home now... :)

Josie said...

I have food texture issues too!!!!

Just the two of us! said...

I too had issues getting the eggplant parm "meal" down... BUT in your defense it did not look near as discusting as your plate full!! I am impressed you got 5 fork fulls down! *applause* BUT I was EXTREEEEMLY angry when I went home to wait for a baby to begin to come annnnnd..... nothing. UGH! I had just spent about $14 on food I choked down and NO BABY! AH! lol! Good Luck with the other "missions". I hope one works for ya!

aybaybay said...

At the restaurant where I ate the good ole eggplant dish there was a "48 hour guarantee." So hey, maybe it's working and you don't know it yet?? Hmm... I bet that didn't make you feel a smidgen better sooo I'll just say -- relax! I remember it being almost impossible to relax for the last three weeks until I got that epidural but I promise it's worth it (are you totally sick of hearing that yet??).

Nadine Johnson said...

By far one of your funnies post's yet! I am laughing with tears rolling down my face! Well written, my Dear, well written!

Love and miss you!


Anonymous said...

You are so funny! I could have guessed that your little one would be late, since you NEVER are! I am sure she will be worth the wait!
Much love!
The Farmers

Lauren said...

I.love.your.blog. I am laughing so hard I am crying which I totally needed after a hectic crazy week without Patrick here. You are such an amazing writer and may just have you write a blog for me...has anyone ever done that?