Sorry, older man waiting in line at the porta-potties. You caught me at a bad time.
That 3-year-old with me? He hates everything: The water they served, the hot dogs and especially waiting in line.
I was trying to keep him from being antsy when you asked me a question I had to have you repeat several times.
“So when is the next kid due?”
I said my other kids were waiting with their dad. So you asked again, pointing to my semi-bloated stomach.
“So when is the next kid due?”
My eyes got wide and I thought for a second. My answer to you was the truth: I’m still working off the weight from the last kid. But there’s more to the truth than that.
That last kid, who took an interest in your watch, pointed to it with his middle finger. I don’t know where he got that from and we’re working on correcting that. But it was what I wanted to do: Flip you off and tell you to leave me alone.
But we talked about the race. This is our second year attending the race. I look pretty much the same as i did the last time I cheered on my two oldest kids and husband.
I weigh the same, 188-190 pounds depending on the day. My stomach is flatter than it was a year ago, but sometimes, like the day of the race, I get bloated.
It would have been nice if you apologized, but I liked talking about the tradition of the race and how you’ve participated in it almost every year.
I didn’t race this time. The last race I did, about a month ago, I carried my 40-pound munchin with a pointing problem through 2.5 miles of the course. The day before the race I met you at, I biked for an hour and swam for 30 minutes.
I’m working my butt off, eating decently, and still have these baby pounds. I also have a lot of muscle I didn’t have a year ago. I have enough strength to be able run 16 miles in a few weeks, do a pull-up without help, and carry all three of my kids at once.
Your comment was logical. I look pregnant. When I’m not paying attention, my older kids like to bounce stuff off my stomach. As it as happens, my daughter was trying to do it with an empty water cup right before I started waiting in line.
I was kind of angry and your question just made my confidence hit a new low.
But I ran today. Five full miles in a botanic garden. I thought of you when I ran. It’s hard to tell whether someone is pregnant. I find it best not to ask people, but maybe, like you, I can provide the motivation someone needs to push harder toward their goal.
Then again, there is always a story behind someone’s belly. I’d rather not guess and risk offending them.
No I’m not pregnant
