I've been fighting a cold for the past few days. You know the drill- runny nose, scratchy throat, and pathetic droopy eyes. Thank heavens it came over the weekend; I'm taking way too many classes this semester to be getting sick this early in the game. Anyway, last night I decided I was feeling too sick to put any effort into a meal, so I looked up the easiest crock-pot recipe I could find. We were only missing a few ingredients, and since we live like 3 minutes away from a market, I hopped into the car around 10 p.m. last night, and made a quick grocery store run.
Since I was still in my "hanging out in the apartment blowing my nose all day long" outfit, I looked pretty awesome. Wearing a zip up hoodie with my big clutch wallet in one pocket, my keys, phone, and notepad (with my grocery list on it) plus a pen in the other pocket, there was no need for a purse. That's one of the best things about hoodies, right? Anyway, I walked into the store, and by instinct headed straight for the best isle. That's right- the ice cream isle. As I gazed past the glass trying to decide (as I coughed and sniffled) if I'd rather eat orchard peach sorbet, or mango sorbet, an older lady came up to me, smiling knowingly and said, "late night cravings?" I smiled at her and nodded. She chuckled and said, "I remember those days." As she walked away I wondered why she would say that she "remembered those days". Isn't it our prerogative as women to always have late night cravings? Old, young, during any time of year and at any time of the month? Don't we deserve that? As I pondered the issue, I saw myself in the reflection of the glass, and noticed my bulging hoodie pockets.
And then I realized. Sweet old lady thought I was pregnant.
That awkward social encounter that I've had many friends cry to me about had finally happened to me. Not only did someone think I was pregnant, they thought it strongly enough that they actually commented to me about it. I tried to not let it bother me since I actually do have a pretty flat tummy, (when I'm not wearing an awkward hoodie with miscellaneous objects shoved into the pockets) but as I walked through the produce section I couldn't help but wonder how many other people thought I looked like I was expecting.
When I got home, I told gideon the whole story and he laughed his deep gideon laugh and tried to insist that the lady didn't think that I was preggo, but I know the truth. I even made him take a picture of me so I could inspect it to see if she had good reason to assume I was expecting. I think I secretly stuck my tummy out a little bit extra, because I secretly wish I was a little bit pregnant, and it's sort of fun to pretend.
Anyway, the moral of the story is- I'm not pregnant. And even if I sometimes wish I was, I don't want to look like I am when I'm not. The end. Also- I think I'm going to start going to the gym when I get over this cold.
Happy Sunday to you all,