My Awesomely Random Life (and Everything in Between)

Hey friends!


funny story.

When I was at work today, I was asked the one most taboo-no-no-off limits-what are you thinking-have you been sniffing paint again-question. The one question that you, me and the next guy or gal must never, ever, neverevernever ask someone. Like, ever.

A woman came through my line at Tarjay, her cart full of beef jerky, apple sauce, toilet paper and duct tape. I always get a kick out of some of the combinations of items that guests purchase. There was once a man who had, and I am not joking, three 1 gallon jars of hot sauce and four giant bags of marshmallows. A new spicy take on the s’more perhaps?

This particular woman looked to be in her thirties, give or take a few years and seemed very nice. We were making small talk (“Can you believe how nice it is outside?!” “Are you going to watch the Oscars tonight? That Bradley Cooper is one fine piece of actor is I ever did see one, isn’t he?”) and everything was going along swimmingly until these words escaped her mouth…

“I hope I don’t offend you, butt…”

Now. Anytime this phrase is uttered, one can assume that nothing good can come from it. In fact, you can almost guarantee that you will be offended in some shape or form. This was no exception, however what this woman would eventually ask I never in a million bajillion years saw coming.

“I hope I don’t offend you, butt are you pregnant, miss?”



I stood there. Just stood there.

Unless I pulled a Mary Magdalene, then yup. I am sure.

Unless I pulled a Mary Magdalene, then yup. I am sure.

At first I wasn’t sure if I heard her correctly. She didn’t just ask that question, right? Anyone who’s anyone knows NOT to ever ask that question.If anyone knows that unspoken cardinal rule, it would be a fellow woman, right?!

The woman didn’t waste a lot of time before she followed up with, “You have such a cute little belly. And you’re positively glowing!”



I looked at the woman and said very calmly (or as calm as I could), “No ma’am. I am not pregnant.” I could feel my face turn a shade of scarlet red, my palms started sweating and I think I may have sprouted my very first gray hair. The woman of course apologized for implying such a thing and seemed to be pretty embarrassed by the whole thing.

At that moment a Rolodex of comebacks spun through my head, things I wanted to say, should have said but probably would have gotten me fired. For example:

“Cute little belly?! It’s called a food baby, lady!”

“No, I am not pregnant. Are you?”

“Willy Nelson called. He wants his mustache back!” *Note: This lady did have the biggest, fuzziest caterpillar of an eyebrow (just one. A big ‘ol uni) that I ever did see! It was actually quite impressiveimages


The whole situation was pretty funny, but you know what was even more so? The fact that I didn’t allow her comment to make me feel bad. Not at all. Before, I might would have took that as a sign that I was the word that shall not be named. No. Not Voldermort, but a word that is equally as negative. The “F” word. FAT.

Sure I have a little more padding on my bones now. I have a bit more junk in the trunk and a little pudge around the middle. But you want to something else? I am strong and healthy, and am able to run and bike and swim and wrestle with my dog. I eat what I want, when I want it simply because I can. Because this body needs and wants those yummy and delicious nutrients (whether they come from Mega Stuffed Oreos–HAVE YOU SEEN THESE HEAVENLY COOKIES?! A unnecessary necessity for sure!–or green beans). And that glow? Well I think that stems from pure happiness. photo4-630x470

I may have a food baby belly, but gosh darn it all to Reese’s Pieces, I earned that food baby belly! And you know what else…..


Not this gal! And nor should you. Or you. Or you. We all have those days where our hair will not cooperate whatsoever even after a bottle of hair spray and our clothes fit a bit too snug. We all have our flaws (caterpillar mustache eyebrow included),Β  but those flaws are what makes you and you and you unique. We should embrace them, not hide them or be ashamed of them!

And we all should feel free to eat a big breakfast or lunch or dinner (or brunch or linner or lupper) and let that food baby hang out, baby! Just let it out! (Wow. That sounded better in my head but a tad weird in writing, no?)

But promise me one thing, k?

Neverevernever ask that question. Like, ever!

I hope you guys have a great rest of your night. I fully intend on planting myself on the couch with a big bowl of ice cream (after all, I am “eating for two” now) and geeking out to all three hours of Oscar mayhem! Helllloooo Bradley Cooper πŸ˜‰

Question of the day:

Have you ever been asked an equally embarrassing question? Have you ever asked an embarrassing question?


Comments on: "For the love of Peter Pan…IT’S A FOOD BABY!" (16)

  1. unfinishedbizness said:

    I was once asked if my daughter is mixed, before she even knew herself that her biological dad is half white/half black. I also wished a large-ish woman a happy mother’s day once assuming she was pregnant… to which she replied that she was not!! Oh, humanity.

    • It most certainly happens to the best of us. I was waitressing once and asked “the dad” if his “daughter” who was in the ladies’ room, would like some more water. Yeah…they were definitely dating. OOPS!

  2. When I WAS pregnant with #3 hubby & I didn’t tell anyone. It was interesting to see peoples faces – but – nobody dared ask. One day my sister – It looks like you are wearing maternity clothes – I said – that’s because I’m pregnant.
    (I was 4 month pregnant)

  3. I once asked the “Are you pregnant?” question to my boss’ spouse. My boss’s husband got so mad. He just doesn’t understand derivative humor which is odd, because his wife is very derivatively humorous.

  4. That is so awkward HAHAHA. I ask embarrassing questions only when I someone asks me something first.. And I always like to start with “This may be a weird question, buut..” lol.

    But hey, she said you were glowing! That’s a good thing in woman language, right?

    Anywho.. so how far along are you with your food baby? Haha jk πŸ™‚

    Great story!!!!


    • I do the same thing! I try not to lead with the awkward question or statement but if it’s dished out to me first, there is a good chance that I will reply with an equally if not more weird response lol.

      Haha I guess “glowing” in woman language translates to a good thing, as long as that “glowing” does not involve an abuse of self-tanner. In that case, its not so much glowing as it is “oranging” LOL.

      And my food baby is about two days old now. I even think I felt my burrito kick for the first time after lunch today! Ahh the miracle of life πŸ˜‰

  5. Holy crap and a bag of chips! I can’t believe she had the gall/lack of oxygen to her brain cells/balls to ask that question. Maybe her vision was clouded by her giant caterpillar/moustache/uni-brow. Or she’s just stupid. You could, however, milk it and have someone throw you a baby shower. Think of all the stuffed animals you could get.
    Food baby. Hm. Is that like a licorice baby only better tasting?

    • Right?! Her massive eyestache must have been clouding her judgement for sure. Oh my golly! I didn’t even think about that!! I SO should have milked it for all it was worth, baby shower and all. Darn it! What was I thinking?! Lol. I don’t think I have ever had a licorice baby before (is that like a Sour Patch Kid?). πŸ˜‰

      • Haha. It’s a little baby made of black licorice. I hate black licorice, so I don’t eat them. Ack. Probably distant relative of Sour Patch Kid..which also tastes like barf. In my opinion.

      • EW! Black licorice is ALL of the worst!! Blech! Although Sour Patch Kids?! Now those are amazing, my friend. A movie-theater staple for sure (although I tend to sneak in my own box of $.99 gummies as opposed to buying the $14.00 box there haha).

  6. When someone writes an post he/she keeps the image of a user in his/her brain that how a user can be aware of it.
    Thus that’s why this piece of writing is outstdanding.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Tag Cloud

%d bloggers like this: