(whom I have only met once, but am looking forward to getting better acquainted with!)
We are just so thrilled. California, here we come (oh, that sounds so cheesy... in an old-timey way... but that fits me, I guess).
2. I knew that if I didn't blog about this, I wouldn't remember, so here goes:
Yesterday, Billy and I were standing in a line at Wal-Mart, waiting patiently as the people ahead of us were attempting to use a gift card that seemed to have run out. Actually, Billy was the one being patient, and I was sighing and rolling my eyes. If I'd had something to tap my acrylic nails on, it would have been the perfect moment. The people in front of us were just buying one thing - a six dollar bottle of wine. They were a couple, and she was insisting that their gift card had "Six dollars and thirty-two cents" on it. Exactly. Over and again, and again, she repeated.
And then it happened. The cashier looked at her, right between the fifth and sixth try of swiping the gift card and she smiled. She sweetly asked the wine-purchaser, "Are you pregnant?" All I could think was, No she didn't! Seriously.
This girl had to weigh all but 80 pounds. Plus, she was purchasing wine, very decidedly. She'd carried it, she was paying for it, and by golly, I think she was going to drink it. If she was pregnant, that would be a bad mommy-move. Almost everyone knows that you don't drink alcohol when you're pregnant (or at least you shouldn't!).
Obviously, the wine lady gawked at the cashier, right as her gift card cleared, and stalked off with her husband. Oh, and she said, "NO, I am not pregnant." And she blushed. I almost blushed for her (I'm a regular blusher. It's a talent.).
We were next, and I stood there breathless... literally. I held my breath, and sucked in as much as I could. I was NOT going to get asked if I was with child. I may claim baby fever, but if I look pregnant, there better be a baby coming soon.
Evidently, my mission was accomplished. She didn't say any extraneous thing to me besides the final prices. She was probably embarrassed. Either that, or I just looked super skinny for those two minutes.
Thank God I did not faint right there in Wal-Mart. I'm thinking that it was worth it, though.
Moral of the story: NEVER ask a lady if she's pregnant unless it is almost watermelon-sized. Also, if this story scares you, go for a run. It's on my agenda today. Either that, or learn how to suck in and not pass out. If you figure it out, email me with the secret.