Mostly, anyway. Last night I was making tuna melts for supper (om nom nom - especially with pickles) and, alas, I dropped one while transferring it from pan to plate. For whatever reason, this started off the crying. Not just sniffling, but actual chest-heaving, hyperventilating sobs with tears and mucus flying everywhere.
The poor man, not realizing that this was just hormones (the entire time I was crying I was wondering what the hell I was crying about, since I didn't feel even remotely upset), spent the next twenty minutes trying to reassure me that the poor disassembled tuna melt would probably still taste good, etc., until the hysterics finally decreased to a point where I was able to speak.
For his sake, I hope the hormones go back to their normal levels once James makes his appearance.