Ok, this must be the weirdest pregnancy thing ever.
The wife now craves the smell of gasoline.
She agitates to fill up the tank when we're about an inch from full. We were wandering around a hardware store yesterday when she cried out "ACETONE!" in a voice mingling equal parts wonder, longing and discovery. She took up a container with the mingled yearning and reverence of a priest clutching a reliquary containing the toenail of St. Augustine.
Her disappointment when she couldn't get the lid open was acute.
"What good is this place if they won't let you smell anything?"
A while back I caught her clutching my bottle of lighter fluid, wild eyed.
"I just want a little sniff!"
She scrabbled open the lid and took a short huff. Her eyes rolled back with pleasure and I actually heard her mouth watering- she had to suction up the involuntary gush of drool
She's like William Burroghs in the throes of junk lust.
I'm wondering if I need to send her away for the Chinese Cure.
Hopefully it'll pass, like her decree that I make her tater tots at 4am every morning.
In the meantime I've secured all household solvents under lock and key.
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