I have to admit, I've done many wacky things throughout all three of my pregnancies. However, the one incident that stands out the most in my mind was during my first.

My husband had been out celebrating a special occasion with a few of his friends and realized they had too much to drink (the designated driver included) so he called me at 2 a.m. for a ride home. Very thankful that he didn't risk his life or anyone else's, I climbed out of bed and ran to the garage and hopped in the car. It took me about 45 minutes to get to my destination.

The further I drove the more upset I got so when I finally arrived, I was so mad. We made it back to our city safely. Meanwhile, I was swinging wildly back and forth between crying and yelling about how he could be so irresponsible.

Finally, outside his mother's house (about a mile from our home) I stopped the car and demanded he stay there for the night. He refused, so I slammed the car in park, shut off the engine, took the keys and proceeded to walk home.

Embarrassed, he spent the night in the car and I trudged up the hill to our home in my nightgown and barefoot in 14-degree January weather! I swear I didn't even realize it for a couple of blocks. I believe that dilemma gave new meaning to the phrase "Barefoot and Pregnant!"

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