Monday, April 27, 2009

Hands Off

They talk about it on baby center. They write about it in the magazines. Friends tell you their stories in appalled tones. It really happens.

I am 22 weeks pregnant. (That's about 5 1/2 months for those of you who don't do weeks.) I definitely look pregnant. By number three, a body knows what to do and it just automatically rearranges to make room for the growing baby. Even before the baby needs the space.

Yesterday at work I met an interesting couple who thought they'd like to see some river front property. I say 'interesting' because the word seems to encompass 'unique', 'strange', 'different', 'odd', 'unusual', and a whole slew of other descriptions that fit them. Sometimes you just know by the way folks walk in and look around that they will be different. This man acted like he owned the place - touching decorations, peeking into offices, waiting till he felt like it to answer my questions. So when we headed out to see property, I was already aware that this tour would a bit awkward.

Inside the condo, they took their time checking out the master suite. I waited in the living room, watching all the boats on the river. Despite the heat (95), the man wanted to step out on the balcony to view the terraces and surrounding amenities. While we were out there, a unit with two story windows caught his attention and he called the woman outside to see. (I never could quite figure out if they were married or not.)

When she finished looking, she turned back and smiled up at me. (She was much shorter than me.) Then she put both her hands on my stomach and said, "You are pregnant?"

Um, yeah.

I nodded and she said, "When are you due?"

I wanted to take a giant step backward - not only was she touching my stomach, but she was well into my personal space. Instead, I looked down and politely answered "September".

"Is this your first?" she asked. STILL touching me.

"No, number three" I said, as I turned to go back inside. At this point the man called her by name and told her that she shouldn't ask a woman if she's pregnant.

Not 'you shouldn't touch a stranger's belly' or 'why don't you back up a little and give the lady some space'. But 'you shouldn't ask a woman if she's pregnant'.

With a pasted, fake smile, I said politely, "Oh it's not like you can't tell! It's pretty obvious."

He replied with, "Well you never know, you could be a Budweiser Queen!" That cracked him up and he laughed heartily at his own joke.

I did not.

4 comments:

TurtlesButterfly said...

Wow, sounds like you meet some "interesting" characters at work.

Peapod Four said...

Oh I bet you do too! ;-)

Ginger@chirgies said...

Blech! Some people just don't have a clue how annoying that is. :) Especially weird strangers!

MomBrose said...

I hate when that happens! I had someone do that at EIGHT weeks with Reagan and I politely told her she wasn't touching the baby (because she was only the size of a grape), but rather my swollen intestines. She backed away pretty quickly. :)