theirlawyer: (just like you democrats: by gimcrack)
[personal profile] theirlawyer
It was getting to be a routine that Ainsley could set her clock to. Every day she would have to run to the washroom and then think she was fine and then it would hit out of nowhere with this constant regularity, this present insistence of the little boy growing inside of her that apparently had his mother's appetite. "Okay! Okay," she said, glancing lower to glare at her ever-growing stomach. "Look, as much as you and I both want fudge-encrusted french fries right now, I'm trying to finish a book."

And she was going to try and set her inner circadian baby rhythms to right if she had to hear a symphony of stomach growls in the process.
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