Knocked up

Yesterday, a sales associate at a store was helping me with some shopping and said “you’re going to be such a cute pregnant woman, one day!”

A) It’s, sadly, not the first time I’ve heard that.
B) How is that a compliment?

Of course, she and my mom and everyone else who points that out has that best of intentions and means no harm; however, I truly don’t understand what it is about me that makes people think I’m going to make hormonal, fat, moody, tired, and hungry cute. No one’s ever accused me of PMSing cutely. If that’s any indication, I’m going to be a blubbering, glutinous, bipolar, scary pregnant woman. Not cute.

Thanks to the worlds greatest party trick, I already have a pretty solid idea of how I’ll look when I’m knocked up, and I’m not too sure I agree with that saleswoman. I guess only time will tell; in the meantime, I’m going to continue scaring the crap out of people at parties and seeing how many people are polite enough to give a fake pregnant lady their seat.

Editor’s note: I’ve never used my pregger powers for evil and would obviously give the seat right back.



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