there are certain tops that are in style right now that cover over a multitude of sins. they look similar to maternity tops, but without quite so much fabric. they are nicely fitted at the bust, then gracefully flutter outward without sticking onto the ol' muffin top. these tops are my friends. i have a few of them in my closet. however, it was not one of these maternity-top-look-a-likes that i was sporting this morning when asked by a friendly woman when my next baby was due. no, i was wearing what i thought was a slimming sort of black shirt that did not stick to my tummy in any way, nor did it look even remotely like something that could have been purchased in the maternity section. this top is no longer my friend.
the poor lady obviously felt embarrassed and apologized and what else could i do but smile brightly and say "that's okay" while accepting the balloon she was handing to tristan. with the fake smile plastered on my face, i bravely left the grocery store and decided immediately to put the whole thing out of my mind. it was too depressing to think about, so no more thinking about it. the look of wonder on tristan's face upon discovering that the blue balloon was actually HIS helped me to forget and i couldn't help but laugh at his squeals of delight while he batted at the balloon. as i was putting him into his car seat, somehow the balloon got caught in the door and slipped off of the ribbon i had tied to his wrist. away it flew, becoming smaller and smaller by the second. tristan watched it drift away in disbelief and i tried to cheerfully wave "bye bye balloon". his lower lip started to stick out and, sure enough, he started wailing as if his heart was broken. truth be told, i cried too. i figured he had his reasons and i had mine. so we had a bit of a tearfest, then i kissed his wet little cheeks and drove home.
oddly enough, rather than motivating me to get skinny already, that lady's comment made me want to buy a huge tub of ice cream and have at it. i refrained from doing so and tried to think of a less self destructive band-aid i could use to make those words not hurt so much. when josh called me from work later on, i told him what she had said. his words to me were sweeter than any tub of ice cream could ever be. he said, "i think you're perfect just the way you are." band-aid? who needs one. i've got a husband who loves me.
moral of the story? never EVER ask a woman when she is due if you aren't 100% sure she is pregant. and by 100% sure, i mean she's either just told you she is, or she's wearing one of those shirts that says "baby" on it with an arrow pointing to her belly.