After Menopause, It Will Be a Compliment
"When are you due?" asked the checkout woman at the grocery store.
Me, looking around to see if she meant someone else, "Um, I'm not pregnant." In fact, I haven't been pregnant since I delivered my twins seven years ago.
Assuming someone is pregnant is dicey business. Guess wrong and it is the ultimate insult. It's really a euphemism for, "You have a fat belly."
Usually to broach the topic with a stranger, three conditions must be met. 1/ The woman's belly is swollen to enormous proportions; 2/ the belly is hard and not flabby; and 3/ the belly is out of proportion to the rest of the body. Doesn't everyone know the rules?
Maybe I meet criterion #3. I'm six feet tall and thin, and unlike most of my mom friends who've delivered twins, I elected not to get the tummy tuck.
A few months later.
My very nice gardener sees me one day as I enter the house. "When's the childs due?"
Me, in disbelief this is happening again, "What do you mean?"
"Are you pregnant?
Goddammit I should have had that tummy tuck. After getting pretty pissy inside my head, I compose myself and ask why the lovely Heriberto thinks I'm pregnant.
"Well, I saw you crossing the street to the school and you were wearing maternity clothes."
OK, if the first worst insult is to be accused of being pregnant when you aren't, the second worst is to be accused of wearing maternity clothes. At least he didn't ask if I sewed the maternity top myself.
Suddenly I realize that instead of hiding my post-twins belly with empire waistline shirts, I'm emphasizing it. Crap. A new wardrobe is going to be expensive.
Continued on the next page
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