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by Sara Burlingame
The clerk at Kohl's just cheerfully asked me if I was pregnant. Rather than honk his impertinent nose I just said “no” very carefully and slowly. My “no” had five syllables.
So he followed up with, “Oh, did you just have a baby?”
With the patience of Clytemnestra I said, “No. And you should stop now.”
He asked if I was offended about 50 time. I smiled and said, “Of course not; women love being told they look pregnant.”
This made him break into a relieved smile and say, “Really? Oh good!”
I replied with my best pitying glare, “Of. Course. Not. Just. Stop.”
A gentle reminder: the only appropriate time to assume a woman is pregnant rather than overly fond of her own cooking is when the baby is crowning; no sooner.
Alison Moore Smith is a 61-year-old entrepreneur who graduated from BYU in 1987. She has been (very happily) married to Samuel M. Smith for 40 years. They are parents of six incredible children and grandparents to two astounding grandsons. She is the author of The 7 Success Habits of Homeschoolers.
I thank Sara for allowing me to share this gem. She posted it on Facebook and I nearly died. Her advice is sound.
Totally worth having to go through it to get published on Mormon Mama <3
Oh my. My sister-in-law once asked me that. I replied that I just eat too much. I think she was more embarrassed than I was. I then related a story of my mother asking someone when the baby was due (there wasn’t one) and being very embarrassed. And I forgot all about it. Roll forward a couple of years and we were visiting the family again, and other friends of theirs were also present. For some reason the topic came up about the questions people ask women, and she related how she had asked someone that question, and had vowed never to do so again. I again began to relate my mother’s experience, and it dawned on us both, I think, part way through that I was the person she’d asked, though neither of us said anything.
Hahaha. Brilliant. Phhhtt. My kids are doing math behind me and I’m trying to stifle the snickering so I won’t disturb them. Bah!
I just never, ever, ever say anything unless someone has told me with few exceptions. Those exceptions are fairly thin women I know pretty well, who end up with the complete basketball protruding nine inches from their hips. In other words, when either they are about to deliver or die because of an enormous tumor. Usually when it’s at that point they are about eight months pregnant or more, so a very safe bet on a thin body. 🙂
Still giggling…
That was great. I think I know who Sara is. Isn’t she a fabulous bread maker?
Until this past week I did not know this, but apparently she is!
I was at Olive Garden once with my two sons and the waitress asked me if my 3rd baby was also a boy. I kindly told her I wasn’t pregnant. She felt so bad she gave my whole family free dessert!
I am a baker, or was in a previous life, anyway. Now I am going to sound terribly Victorisn and say: I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, barnone, if that is really your name, for you know my identity and I am ignorant of yours. (If this were a Victorian novel you would smile (archly, which is the only option for faces of that time period) and you’d hand me your calling card. Let’s do this!
Cwc, you’ll have to tell me the history of your former baking life. Then you can move in next door and be my supplier. 🙂