Third Times A Charm

Okay, this is the last time I write about this, because I know you are sick of hearing me whine about it and I am tired of writing about it. However, for the third time in six month someone has asked me if I am pregnant.

I took the kids to get their pictures taken for Father's Day yesterday. Yes, Charlie does read this, but he was on to me anyway. The kids always get him pictures for Father's Day, except last year when I was too tired and pregnant to do anything, so it's not that big of a surprise. The big surprise is which pictures I choose. I spoke to him while we were at the Picture People and the conversation went like this:

Charlie: What are you doing?

Me: We're working on your Father's Day present.

Charlie: Oh, are you at the Picture People?

See. He is the hardest person to get gifts for because he always guesses what they are. Either I suck at giving gifts or he's just a really good guesser, and I choose to believe it's the second one.

Anyway, back to my story. As we were getting ready to leave the store one of the photographers said, "boy, girl?". I had no idea what she was talking about. All three kids were standing with me and it was pretty obvious what sex they are. The girls were both wearing ribbons in their hair and dresses, and Andy does not in any way look like a girl. I guess I looked confused, because she said something like, "are you expecting?" or "don't you have one on the way?". I just looked at her and said "no". She preceded to tell me that yeah, she's not either yet people ask her all the time if she is pregnant as well. So much so that she was thinking of buying one of those things they sell on tv. You know, that you wear and it takes you down two sizes. They're only $39.95. Yes, lady, it's called Spanx. I have not seen them on tv, but I do know about them, and if you think I'm going to wear Spanx all day when it's 100 degrees outside just so stupid people who don't know how to keep their mouths shut won't ask me if I'm pregnant, than you are nuttier than you look. Wow, I didn't know I had that in me. I thought I had calmed down since yesterday but I guess I'm still a little fired up.

Now, I don't know how to say this nicely, and I don't really feel like being nice anyway, but this lady did not look pregnant, she looked fat. I'd like to think that I don't look fat, but I think the writing is on the wall. I'm fat. I really need to reconsider doing those sit ups. The funny thing is, when I was pregnant and my belly was this size, nobody ever asked if I was pregnant. I'd walk around thinking it was so obvious, but people couldn't tell. So why can everybody tell now?

As I see it, I have two options. One, I can just get pregnant again. That way when people ask I don't have to look dejected I can just say why yes, I am. The only problem with that is that I have no desire to be pregnant or have anymore children. Three mini-monsters are more than enough. Plus, I would have the bonus of being a single mother because my husband would probably leave me. Second, I can just start eating like crazy and actually get fat. Then people won't be confused, they'll just know that I am one fat person. Of course, that's not healthy and it may cut my life expectancy, but it might just be a little bit fun. I guess there are two other options. I could starting exercising, but what fun is that, or I could drink myself into oblivion, but that's pretty painful when you have to get up and nurse a baby at 4 a.m. (yes, that's what time I was up doing just that this morning), not to mention what effects it might have on the baby.

So, I promise, I will stop whining about this and actually do something or maybe even a combination of a few things. First of which is to come up with a better comeback.