I have recently discovered a formidable super power:
I make people nervous.
Seriously. I have reached a stage in pregnancy where just being around me makes others extremely uncomfortable. They see me waddling their way and immediately begin to worry that I’m going to go into labor. Like, right that second. In front of them. And then they’re going to have to do…what? Something? Call a doctor? Provide transportation to the hospital? Serve as impromptu medical attendant, with all the screaming and “yuck” and responsibility and legal liabilities involved?
I should probably be sensitive to others’ capacity for being concerned and/or grossed out, but to be honest I find it pretty funny. It makes me feel like a mind reader as I see, “holy moly, how pregnant IS she?” flash into the cashier’s eyes or “here comes clean-up on aisle 5” flit across the face of the high school kid stocking shelves. I’m tempted to fake a wince or a gasp to try to really freak them out, but so far I’ve managed to resist my dark side.
And, yes, it’s probably my internal retaliation for the comments. You know, THOSE comments. Because when what you’re thinking is, “please don’t go into labor in my store. That’d be way awkward for everyone and the lawyers would HATE it,” it’s a much better idea to say something like:
- “Wow! You look like you’re about to pop!”
- “Oh, my. You’re looking ripe.”
- “Are you sure your due date is accurate? How much weight have you gained?”
- “It must be hard to walk with that belly in the way!”
- “Is that a basketball under there? How about a beach ball? Hardeehardeehardee…”
So. Be warned: if you ask me how much weight I’ve gained or compare my current state to ready-to-consume fruit, I am going to be making fun of you in my head…and possibly writing about you on my blog. Deal? Deal.