2 weeks ago, one of my old neighbors (who thankfully moved but has been showing up around my ‘hood lately) commented that he didn’t even know I was pregnant. I kind of brushed it off as him being a total stoner idiot (and I actually couldn’t remember when he moved away so his not knowing I was pregnant may have actually been valid).
But then one of my other neighbors (one that I see like once a week) made a similar comment. I was carrying Annie out of the house in her car carrier and this neighbor asked how old she was. I told her “12 weeks” and then she said, “I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”
Um, really? This is me at the end of January:
Did she think that I just gained a large amount of weight concentrated solely around my midsection? Did she think I had a giant tumor? Did she think that I was smuggling a basketball under my sweater every day out of the house? I mean, REALLY?!
I should have answered, “Yeah – I didn’t know I was pregnant either until I went to the bathroom thinking I needed to shit and out came a baby.”
DAHAHA! You should tell them that your episode of “I didn’t know I was pregnant” will air on TLC in the fall.
Clearly you were shoplifting watermelons. Or large amounts of coke. (But probably watermelons.)