Pregnant Super Heros

Today Hid walked into the kitchen, walked out, then puked. I’m standing there making sandwiches, all perplexed as to what caused this.

*check my shirt, smell my armpits*
‘Hid, do you like, need me to hold your hair back or something?’ No. Ok, cool. ‘You still want a sandwich?’ Yes, she does. ‘I’ll just get you some more water then, and maybe a bag of crisps to go with it, okay?’ I’m such a pleaser.

Apparently what caused this was some undetectable odour in the kitchen. Undetectable, that is, by a mere ordinary being such as me. This isn’t the first time it has happened either; last month as we were getting ready to leave for London, she had a similar experience. Fortunately, it was just because of another smell rather than an overwhelming sickness and we were still able to enjoy a lovely day in London. What is remarkable, however, is that these smells do not register with my average senses at all. I think pregnant women have supernatural powers that enable them to detect certain things that we non-pregnant types never even know exist. It’s like living with a super hero, or an X-men, er… man… er… woman, whatever. I'm now the one who gets anything in the fridge, because she doesn’t deal well with the smell in it. To me it's just regular old ‘fridge smell.’ In the past, I have prided myself on being able to detect a funky smell in the fridge (just ask any former roommates) and, to me, it’s fine.

So, in addition to growing and packing two babies around inside of her, she can sniff out unsavoury odours and move with cat-like stealth and haste to the toilet to rid herself of previous meals. I have to say that it’s all a bit intimidating. I mean, I can play Unreal 2004 on the computer for a straight hour without blinking or my hand cramping, but she makes me look like a complete Muppet. We haven’t even approached the shape-shifting body or actual birth yet. I guess if I were going to be her arch nemesis and supreme baddie, I would have to make my lair next to the fridge because, my other super powers (the Silent Getaway, used in retail job situations, and my impeccable ability to fly below the social radar) are a bit random and, lets face it, rather unimpressive. Vampires and Werewolves have heightened senses of smell and lightning quick speed, not some lame knack of escaping when faced with responsibility. In a comic book climax, my pregnant wife would absolutely thrash me. Now she just needs a good super hero name…
-m