I rolled my eyes as we left the house. At the mall, I opened the door for her, something I don't usually do, just to appease my pregnant wife.
As we entered, I walked a short distance away from her.
"Okay, what do you want?" I asked, and she squealed like a baby.
"Let's buy shoes first," she said, heading toward the clothing section.
I followed her like a sheep. I hardly ever go to the mall; I have my assistants run all my errands. I don't know a thing about this place.
She started grabbing jeans and leggings that I assumed would be very tight on her. Was she doing this to annoy me?
"How can you wear those when you're pregnant? Won't they hurt the baby?" I stuttered, trying not to sound like I cared.
"Then help me select better ones that won't hurt 'our baby,'" she said, air quoting the last two words.
I grabbed the trousers she was holding and threw them on the floor. "Try something like this," I said, taking a large pair of jeans from the hanger.
