It's official. G is trying to kill me so that he can have the baby all to himself. Though I've kindly explained that since I'm still physically attached to her, this would be a bad idea.
We were arguing (jokingly) over Star Wars. Why? Because of some stupid image and him trying to rile me up. Basically he was being a pain. I told him not to mess with me because since I grew up with my dad and 3 brothers, I was pretty sure I'd seen them more than him. This is when he told me that one summer he watched all 3 movies nearly every day. Yeah...he's a nerd.
His comedic timing being impeccable as usual I had just taken a drink of apple cider, while reclined back. A large drink. And instead of spewing it out in a spray, I suddenly found myself choking and apple cider pouring out of my mouth like a river, covering my chest and dripping onto the quilt I was lying on. G freaks out, thinking I'm going to be sick or die or something. I admit I panic because I can't get a breath in through the liquid. Over quickly, but mildly terrifying.
So yes, he is trying to kill me. But at least this happened just a bit ago and my quilt is already in the wash. So, for Day 7 I am thankful for the ability to live another day. Life is good.