I went to the gym Thursday. I didn’t want to, because I have this stinking sinus cold thing, where my head hurts, and my snot is a nice, thick, brown-green, and when I turn over in the bed at night, I feel the air pressure in my sinuses changing and it makes a popping noise that keeps me awake. So, I took medicine, that day-time cold medicine, that doesn’t really make you feel better, it just makes you feel different in an “Is my head vibrating?” kind of way. Anyway, I wasn’t really in the mood for it, but I hadn’t been all week for the same reason, and I wasn’t dying or anything, so I went and I walked two miles. I had to walk two miles, even though I forgot my IPod, and exercising sucks when I don’t have music. When I found out I didn’t have my IPod, i thought about just grabbing the kids out of the nursery, packing them back in the car, and going right back home.
I didn’t do that, though, because when I brought the kids into the nursery in the first place, the same Goddamned well-meaning nursery worker who said it the last time after I had Rollie, and not right afterwards either, said to me:
“How are you and the baby doing?” she says.
I stare at her. I look at Rollie, then at Matilda, who is quite obviously a toddler now. I look blankly back at her. Then I realize.
“I’m not pregnant.” You fucking dumbass whore.
So, even though I didn’t feel like working out at all, and much less after her thoughtless blow to my self-esteem, I got my [fat to the point of looking pregnant] ass on the treadmill.
The moral of this story, in case you somehow don’t know this one, is the following:
UNLESS YOU SEE A BABY’S HEAD COMING OUT OF SOMEONE’S VAGINA, DO NOT ASSUME THEY ARE PREGNANT.
One simple rule that will serve you well.