Kick

"Freddie, I'm hungry," Sam said to her husband.

"Surprise, surprise," Freddie said.

"Get me food."

"Fine," he sighed, getting off the couch. "What do you want?"

"Hmm…how about some pickles with strawberry sauce and caramel?"

Freddie grimaced. "You and your cravings."

"Hey, I'm pregnant," Sam snapped as Freddie headed to the kitchen. "I'm allowed to eat what I want!"

Freddie chuckled. Sam, who was about five months along, had become accustom to eating strange combinations of food, or rather, more strange than what she usually ate, nearly every day, and as her husband, the job of preparing her meals usually fell on Freddie.

"I don't know how you can eat this," Freddie commented as he spooned caramel onto the plate of pickles. "All I know is that kid's going to come out with an appetite just like yours."

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, I'll just probably have to get a second job to feed the two of you," he said, handing Sam her food.

"Mmmm, this is good," Sam said, biting into a pickle. "Good work, Fredison, it's really-" she stopped and got a strange expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" Freddie frowned, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Freddie," she whispered, putting the plate on the coffee table. "The baby's…moving."

"What?"

"Come here," she said, smiling as she put a hand on her slightly swollen abdomen. "I think it's kicking!"

"Are you serious?" Freddie exclaimed, rushing to Sam's side. He put a hand on her stomach.

"Wow," he said as he felt tiny kicks against his palm. "I feel it."

"This is so cool," Sam said, grinning. "We can actually feel our baby!"

"Yeah," Freddie nodded. "Just five more months until we can actually see him or her."

"I can't wait," Sam whispered.

"Me neither."