The other day, Little Mister got off the bus in a talkative mood.
Little Mister: “Jessica on the bus asked me if you were having a baby.”
Me: “Really? What did you tell her?”
Note for the audience, I am not having a baby. And my interaction with Jessica includes her staring at me out the bus window every morning when Little Mister gets on.
Little Mister: “I told her I didn’t know if you were.”
This was an interesting answer, on multiple levels.
Me: “You know I’m not having a baby. Why did she ask you that?”
Little Mister: “She said you looked pregnant.”
Alrightythen.
To quote Manny the woolly mammoth from Ice Age: “I’m not fat, I’m poofy!” Or at least my coat was. Or, maybe I just ate too much cheese.
While Jessica’s comment was innocent, it stuck with me.
So I started to focus on my poofy self a bit more. Eating more protein. Joining invigorating classes at the local yoga flow studio. Drinking two Stanleys a day.
Kids are awesome, right?
Life of kk 