his little chicken.

Yesterday, after getting ready for the baby shower my friends were throwing me, I asked Randy how I looked (NOTE: I plan on posting about the baby shower later this week- the post will include way too many pictures).

Randy's reply: Good. You're my chicken. My little chicken.
My response: What? A chicken? How so? What does that mean? (For reference purposes, here are two pictures of what I looked like - these pictures were taken right after he dotingly referred to me as his "little chicken.")
After some coaxing from me (he didn't really want to expound on his statements), he finally said: Little legs, big breasts, and the belly - it's cute. You are like a bird.

Well, that's good to know. He certainly didn't mean anything negative in his comments and honestly, I wasn't offended - I found the whole term of endearment and conversation amusing and sweet.

So I am Randy's "little chicken" - little legs, big breasts, and belly all wrapped up to make for one cute, pregnant chick (pun intended).