So I went out and picked up a cute little hand bag and a pair of sparkly earrings in preparation for this weekend's Oscar party.
As she handed me my receipt, the saleswoman (bless her), asked, "So, you're the second pregnant woman today who bought foo-foo stuff like this... I have to ask - Do you have some sort of, umm, "party" going on?"
Yeah lady. We have a club, and we decided it was a good idea to dress up in uncomfortable clothes and shoes and watch our spouses and friends get tanked while we sip on fruit juice and hope our support hose don't spring a run, since they're the most expensive item in our wardrobe right now.
I bit my tongue, smiled, and said, "Well, I can't speak for her, but the Academy Awards party is at the Belcourt this weekend. It's a pretty big deal."
She proceeded to say that now that she thought about it, maybe the other woman wasn't pregnant after all. She may have just been a little "poochy". She wasn't OBVIOUSLY with child, as I am.
Seriously, what does a girl wear when she's practically 7 months pregnant and she's supposed to accompany her husband to Nashville's Oscar Night America?
Good question. For the answer, you'll have to get your tickets and find out yourself. I'll be the one with the belly sitting with the emcee...
2 comments:
You'll be the one whose belly rivals the emcee's belly... :)
A recent New Yorker cartoon pictured a pregnant woman with the following message written upon her shirt: Ask Me About My Massive Weight Gain.
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