"Eat more, dear; consider it for the baby," he said.
Tracy could only open her mouth wide to accept the food, tears streaming down her face, which had become distorted from her weight, quickly disappearing into the folds of flesh.
Every time she stubbornly kept her mouth shut and refused to eat, and Wade would force her to open it.
"Eat properly; don't starve my son! If anything happens to him, I'll kill you!"
Wade was disturbed by her constant wailing, making him increasingly irritable.
"Why not move Tracy to the basement? Otherwise, the dragon prince might not even be born, and you won't be able to handle it," I suggested sympathetically.
Wade looked at me and nodded in agreement.
"You're right; we need to move her down there; otherwise, people might think I'm beating my wife every day!"
But Tracy was now too large and heavy, so we had to call in movers for help.
"Wow, what are you moving? This must weigh four to five hundred pounds!"
The movers were shocked when they saw the box.
Just as Wade was about to say something, I interrupted him.
"Oh, it's just a pig sent by our rural relatives. We can't keep it upstairs, so we'll put it in the basement until we have time to slaughter it."