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Stop toying with me.
Over the course of 10 minutes, on a walk to and from the drug store while in search of allergy medication to soothe the excruciating pain in my throat (which I ultimately decided deserved nothing but the best: three Advil washed down with some boxed wine), I counted no fewer than 10 pregnant women.
Pregnant lady with a toddler in the pharmacy line. Pregnant lady in a burka. Pregnant lady going for a stroll with her husband. Pregnant Asian lady pushing a stroller containing yet another baby. Dad carrying a car seat. Okay, he wasn't a pregnant lady. Pregnant chick who looked amazing in ridiculously tight workout clothes that I wouldn't wear on my most confident of non-pregnant days. Seriously, I briefly considered asking her out on a date.
Pregnant lady with a toddler in the pharmacy line. Pregnant lady in a burka. Pregnant lady going for a stroll with her husband. Pregnant Asian lady pushing a stroller containing yet another baby. Dad carrying a car seat. Okay, he wasn't a pregnant lady. Pregnant chick who looked amazing in ridiculously tight workout clothes that I wouldn't wear on my most confident of non-pregnant days. Seriously, I briefly considered asking her out on a date.
Is there a pregnancy convention in town? Do they have those? Or maybe this is just the residual effect of Snowmageddon circa Winter '09-'10.
Universe, I will have a baby when I'm good and ready. And richer. Also, first I have to emotionally come to terms with this whole episiotomy thing.
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