In keeping with the obnoxious trend of annoying people commenting freely on my increasing girth, I felt I must share this recent gem of an interaction.
About a month ago I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business. It was almost 6pm, and I was looking forward to wrapping up my long workday and journeying home to have some snacks and pore over my latest birthing book. Suddenly, just as I was shutting down my computer and grabbing my car keys, up loped good ol' Joe (name NOT changed, as should he ever read this Joe should be aware that he is, indeed, a jackass).
Now, I've always had a soft spot for Ol' Joe. He's a soft-spoken, mild-mannered little man with a college-age daughter. Our past interactions have been consistently innocuous, covering such topics as the weather, his daughter's schoolwork, and who made the best dish at the department potluck (organized by yours truly, thankyouverymuch). Yes, Joe and I were pals...until this fateful conversation:
Ol' Joe, peering over the side of my cubicle: "I must say, I'm surprised to still see you here. Aren't you due soon?"
29-Weeks-Pregnant Me (silently cursing him): "Actually, I'm not due til August 26th...but thanks!"
Him: "Oh...well, I just see that you've gotten bigger recently."
Me (thinking evil thoughts): "Yes, that'll happen. I'm actually going to get a lot bigger than this, though."
Him: "Oh, really? You're planning to get bigger?"
Me (truly loathing him): "Well, I've got a ways to go, and I'm actually carrying pretty small for almost seven-and-a-half months pregnant..."
Him (Come one, come all, and behold! The Man Who Simply Cannot Stop Talking!): "Oh. Well, are you gaining about two pounds a month?"
Me (plotting his death): "Um, no. You're supposed to gain a pound a week, so I've been gaining more like four pounds a month, actually."
Him: "Oh, really? Back when my wife was pregnant they told her two pounds a month."
What I Should Have Said: "Well, they tell obese women to gain only 15 pounds during their pregnancies. Is your wife a great big fat person?"
What I really said: "Good to know."
At this point, Ol' Joe may have realized that the friendly smile plastered to my face scarcely concealed the daggers shooting from my eyes straight into his heart, and he managed to wander off without offending me further, though truthfully, by this point everything about him was offensive - Damn your receding hairline! Damn your faded polo shirt! Damn your old man shoes!
This was certainly the kicker in the Annoying Pregnancy Commentary department, followed closely by the 19-year-old intern who persists in beaming perkily and exclaiming "You just KEEP GETTING BIGGER!" whenever she walks by me.
Loathsome creatures, all of them. Now pass the pop-tarts.