That means, "COMPLAIN, COMPLAIN, COMPLAIN" in Hawaiian. My dad had a golden rod colored t-shirt with iron-on, velvet, black letters that said that. He would say that to us when we were whiny little tykes.
There have been at least two nights when Mike has come to bed (he comes to bed usually when I'm already well into la-la-land) and he has said, "Are you o.k.? Is there something I can do to help?" Apparently I had been moaning in pain in my sleep; pain, as in, slight discomfort. The first time it was because the squirrel was growing and pushing my guts up into my ribs making my ribs sore. The second time it was because my belly button was stretching and starting to move it's way outward.
Here is a list of complaints that I've spoken out loud in the last 4 months or so:
Where's my period, I need to start my period?!
My boobs hurt.
I'm hungry.
I'm tired.
That smells horrible.
I'm gassy.
I feel like barfing.
I'm tired.
My ribs hurt.
My skin hurts.
I'm hungry.
My belly button hurts.
I can't sleep.
That body pillow is TOO fluffy.
I have to pee again.
I'm hungry.
I'm hot.
I can't lie on my tummy.
I don't like room temperature water.
This vitamin is too big to swallow.
I feel like barfing.
I'm hungry.
That's all I can think of I'm sure there's more. I'm sure there will be more to come.
Can't wait.
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