I Eat Ice

To my husband's chagrin,
I eat ice when I'm pregnant.
Not usually until later in pregnancy,
but by about 7 months or so
I'd pick a glass full of ice over cheesecake.

I KNOW!!
If you know of my affinity for cheesecake,
go ahead and pick yourself up off the floor
because it's the truth.

You may remember you're older brother always keeping an eye on your plate and asking
"Are you going to finish that?" when supper was particularly good.
Well that's how I am with ice--I see people wasting perfectly good ice and want to ask them
"Are you going to finish that?"
(I would never really do that, it was more for blog effect.  Maybe.)

I know it's a sign of iron deficiency,
this desire to crunch ice.

I know it drives my husband batty.

I know that I prefer store-bought bagged ice to what I'm able to make in my freezer here at home.

And I know that if you're headed over my way,
I may just ask you to stop off and bring me a fresh bag of ice.
(I bought a ten pound bag last week and it was gone in four days,
if that's any indication...)