Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Hands On

As I continue to grow, exponentially it seems, I keep catching sideways glances from random people. And maybe its my paranoia talking, but the looks on their faces is not the "Aww isn't she cute" kind, but the "I wonder if she's pregnant or just fat" type. It depends on what I'm wearing, but I can see their dilemma... You can't just assume and you sure as hell can't ask chicks anymore, cause what if you're wrong? You'd feel like an assclown and they would plummet into a downward spiral of self-loathing, eating disorder nastytown.

Like this last weekend. I went into Topsy's for a refreshing icy beverage. FYI- they make a fresh squeezed cherry limeade that kicks a lot of the ass. And in weird 50's soda-pop shop style, there were a few teenage boys lingering. Part emo, part homo, I'm not sure the ratio, but one says to me "I really like your dress". I left home that morning thinking the black baby-doll dress and light pink T underneath was super cute, but this was too much to hope for. Affirmation from the 15 yr old teenage boy sect? I'm not as old as I feel after all. And as I stand waiting for my fresh squeezed awesomeness, I hear very faintly "I'm not asking, YOU ask her!" and with a stealth sideways glance it dawns on me. Looking at my mid-section, they're totally pondering the stomach status. You have to give their moms kudos though for raising their kids right because neither one actually had the nads to ask, or at least knew it was a bad idea.

But my gut reaction, before I even knew what I was doing, was to put both hands lovingly on my bump and give it a few rubs to indicate that I was indeed baking a baby and not just giving homage to my fat Buddha belly. Don't judge. You'd totally do the same.

No comments:

Post a Comment