Seriously. When is it ever appropriate to ask someone when they are due? Is it o.k. when they already have a child running around at their heels? Is it o.k. when they are 6 months pregnant and shopping at Babies R Us for a stroller? Is it o.k. when they are laying on the table in the OR, pushing and gripping their husband around the neck, screaming at him for putting them there? Is it ever o.k.? Somehow, I don't think so. Having never before been on the receiving end of that question, I never considered it. Until Wednesday.
We got to the temple early, Rob and B and I, to help Dad get set up for services. Our Temple holds High Holidays services at the local VA Chapel, where we share space and have our regular services. Sometimes the Veterans who hang out at the VA come to our services, especially at High Holidays. A woman came early and was hanging out watching everyone set everything up. She made comments about Brooklyn and about us and about Dad and about alot of things. Harmless comments that we answered, and responded to, making conversation.
When the service started, Rob was reading, and she began to ask (quite loudly) what page we were on. She was having trouble keeping up, and that's o.k. But this gets better.
Wait... let me put this in context... I weight 160 pounds... on a bad day! After services were over, Brooklyn and I headed to the bathroom (for what seemed like the 10th time.) This woman was coming out of the stall as we were heading in. She asked me something about Brooklyn, and then said "when are you due?" I stopped, and said "excuse me?" She replied, "When are you having your baby?" WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Please, tell me I do not look fat in that outfit. Tell me that you did not just shatter my opinion of myself on a day when I thought I might have an extra pound showing. Tell me that you did not just make me feel bad about the fact that the zipper was just a little more difficult to pull all of the way up that morning. And tell me, please, tell me that I do NOT look pregnant!
On her defense, the shirt has an empire waist. Oh wait, there is no defense. You seriously cannot ask that. Seriously.
On that note, I have to go write about the little Cinderella that was dancing around my living room earlier today, complete with tiarra and little slippers.