"Let's Tell Funny Stories."

When I was a kid, growing up with two crazy sisters, we had this family tradition where we would tell funny stories at the dinner table. The three of us of course loved it while normally it pissed my mother off, in the end, because the hilarious stories would lead to snorting milk out of our nose and choking on homemade spaghetti from the sudden bursts of laughter. The stories were typical, repetitive stories of classmates or funny names. You know, the juvenile stuff kids think is funny. 

My Sisters (and Matt) now roll their eyes at me when we sit down to a family dinner because it always starts with a prayer/blessing and then my immediate comment, "Okay, let's tell funny stories." Coincidentally, my mother is now the only one who finds it funny when I still bring it up... Oh, to be a mother. 

(Oh wait, I will be!)

Now, I could tell you some of the stories, but I have a feeling they wouldn't be as funny. 

What I can tell you about is my pregnancy stories that as I look back on them now, I think oh man... one day these will be brought up at the dinner table to remind me of how ridiculous I was during these crazy nine months.

Let's start with a Publix Sub.

@LoulosLauren Poulos

Hey. Guy at publix. Your job is to hear my sub order and type it in. Aka the easiest job on earth. Get it right.

9 Sep via Twitter for iPhoneFavorite Reply Delete

Maybe you remember this Twitter Post I did last month? I was 7 weeks pregnant and SO SO SO tired all of the time. I was also an eating machine and for whatever reason, a Publix, Boars-head turkey sub sounded good to me (I know, I know... you are not supposed to eat deli meat during pregnancy, and this was the last and only time I did so... well, almost did).  Up to this very early point in my pregnancy I was having the weirdest cravings. All I wanted was potatoes, cheese and ketchup. My love for Mexican food? Out the window; I couldn't even think about eating anything smothered in salsa or guac. Garlic? Gross, the smell still makes me nauseous. Which Matt finds hilarious because our joke was that I over garlic everything I eat. I have not been sick the entire First Trimester, so I feel pretty lucky, however my cravings have been weird... to say the least. Now, for you who know me, I could give two craps about Publix's glorious subs. I know everyone rants and raves about them, but personally I don't see the big deal. I partially blame this on myself because somehow, I have the innate ability to combine the worse sandwich, sub, pizza, etc. toppings possible. I don't know why, but Matt and I can both walk in to a Subway, order the same sub (Veggie Patty on Wheat - different toppings) and mine is disgusting while his is the best sandwich I ever ate?! It blows my mind. In some cases of severe hunger, it has driven me to tears.

Well, this was a different story. 
On this day, that sub sounded like the most gourmet meal imaginable.
Of course, not wanting to ruin my sandwich experience, I turned the reins over to Matt and let him dress the sub, but all I cared about was Maple Glazed Turkey and delicious, bad for you, white sub bread from the Publix Bakery.

Disclaimer: At our Publix, they have this idiotic method of making subs where they don't do it in front of you like standard procedure. They take your order on a touch screen computer, print your ticket, and give it to another employee who was not part of the initial transaction in the first place. You have now lost the option to casually throw out, "Hey, can you add a few more pickles?"
See, its frustrating to begin with.

The dialogue between Matt and Sub Guy:
Matt: "I'd like a footlong turkey sub on wheat"
Me: "Actually, can you make that Boars-head Honey Maple Turkey on White?"
(Looking a Matt for approval, he nods.)
Guy: "Sure"
Matt: "Lettuce, Tomato, bla bla bla"
(Chooses toppings, confidently, while he suggests I get the remainder of our list so we can get home immediately and I can calm my hunger, I agree.)
Guy: "Here you go."
(Hands over sub)


We grab some kettle cooked salt and vinegar chips to balance this well rounded lunch, which I impatiently open in the checkout line and finish in the car, and pull in to our driveway five minutes later.
Starving, I rip open the sandwich I have been dreaming about since 11:00 am (it is now 3:00 pm) and take a giant, expecting to be completely satisfied bite.

It's ham.
Can I just say one thing? I hate, with a burning passion, lunch meat ham. Baked ham, glazed with brown sugar and bourbon, served with some sort of cheesy potatoes during Holiday time? Sure. I'll take seconds, please. But lunch meat ham? It weirds me out. It sticks to my teeth and I am just not into it. Apparently, as a pregnant woman, it enrages me. 


Completely pissed off, I childishly throw my sandwich back in to the bag and while breathing fire, ask Matt if he is satisfied with the wrong type of sub. I was headed back to Publix. Well, of course this hormonal outburst was ridiculous and the thing about Matt and my relationship, he let's me know when I am being neurotic. This episode obviously started a screaming match in the kitchen, in front of Steve, about how idiotic and asinine sandwich making is and how getting the wrong sub is unimaginable, to me. Now enraged, Matt hands me his sub to return and I drive back to Publix, blood boiling. 


I walk in to the sliding doors where "Shopping is suppose to be a pleasure" and calmly tell the sub guy, who is goofing off now, that he got our order wrong. "I asked for Boars-head honey Maple Turkey and this is ham."
"Oh I am sorry," he offered up.
Okay, I am not a confrontational person and I do not like to be down right mean to people, so I stood there quietly, tears welling up in my eyes. Guy hands me back sub and I practically stomp all the way back to the car.

I pull back in to the driveway, go into my house, sit down at my kitchen counter with Matt and Steve and re-open the sub.

He gave me the wrong bread.
Now, is this a big deal? No, not normally; apparently to pregnant Lauren, it is. Immediately, I begin pounding my fists on to our poor kitchen counter and can't keep myself from despising Publix and all of their sub making non-sense. Tears. I am now crying over a sub.

Steve and Matt try to convince me that wheat bread is not a big deal, while I assure them that wheat bread is no longer the point of severe dissatisfaction. I discard my stupid sub back in to the wrapper and throw it in the fridge, over the entire situation and barge out of the kitchen. Into my room and under my covers I maturely cry myself to sleep. Yikes.

Poor Matt. Not knowing whether to be mad at me for refusing to eat anything and nourish our little nugget, or let me sleep off the hormonal rage, left me alone and quietly stepped out. Back to Publix, handling the situation, and waking me up an hour later with a fresh, just how I wanted it in the first place, Publix Sub waiting with my name on it.

I am so lucky to have a supportive husband who will do anything for his crazy wife.

Comment from my sister (who was in her room during this whole episode) a couple days later, "What in the hell were you and Matt yelling about in the kitchen?" Me, "a Publix sub." Her, "You guys are idiots, all I could hear was you repeating 'do you want ham?' and Matt slamming his hands on the counter."

Haha.