"No."
"Why not?"
"Because, Ian it's ridiculous!"
"Why is it always MY suggestions that are ridiculous!"
"This baby is not going to have a Kevlar carseat."
"Its a valid concern!" Ian protested, putting his hands on the counter in exasperation. Lauren was 7 months pregnant with his first daughter and he was not about to take any risks.
"Do they even *make* Kevlar carseats?" She asked raising an eyebrow at him.
"Well not typically, but I can have one made. Its only a matter of money." He said rolling his eyes. She was very argumentative these days.
"No."
"I wasn't really asking your permission, Love." he pointed out.
"And this is not a debate either. I said NO." She said getting up from the island to walk towards the fridge.
"What are you doing?" He asked irritatedly. She was supposed to be on bed rest, off her feet. Yet the woman insisted on pushing the limit. Typical Lauren."
"I'm thirsty!" She complained.
"So you ask me to get you something to drink!" He argued.
"I dont like being waited on hand and foot! Its so… annoying." She protested, but sitting back down at his *dont fuck with me* stare.
"Well too bad. If we're going to have a family together, that means you have to listen to the doctors and stay OFF your feet, got me?" He said pouring her a glass of lemonade.
"Fine. And we aren't naming her Emily either."
"Why not!" He asked, frowning.
"Because… I just hate that name." She said taking a gulp of water avoiding his gaze.
"Fine. Whatever. Can we go to bed now?" Ian asked admitting defeat.
"I guess. I feel that's like all I do these days now though!" She moaned.
"Well… the doctor didn't specify what you could do… in bed." Ian said cocking an eyebrow at her, with an ornery grin.
"Keep dreaming, lover boy." Lauren said rolling her eyes.