What a $12 steak says...

When I picked up groceries this afternoon, I decided that a nice dinner would perk up our fridgeless, satellite-less selves. Perhaps some tasty BBQ -- marinated chicken for me. A $12 t-bone steak big with a big ol' chunk of filet mignon for the boy. Barbequed mushrooms and red onion on skewers. Steamed broccoli. Fancy brownies from the bakery for dessert.

Our after-dinner conversation went something like this:

Me: "Oh dear god, I'm so full. Look, feel my belly. It's huge."
Chris (with suspicious and slightly alarmed look) : "Are you pregnant? Is that why you bought me a fancy steak?"
Me: "Huh?"
Chris: "Pregnant... Are you?"
Me: "Let me get this straight -- fancy steak equals big scary news."
Chris (shrugging his shoulders): "Well, if you were going to tell me you were pregnant, you might try and butter me up with a fancy dinner."

I think I'll start buying Kraft Dinner for a while.