Well here we are again – storytime.
As most of you know, my strange illness has resulted in a belly that looks about seven months pregnant. In the early days, this was quite emotionally tough. While the belly still presents challenges now, especially in the realm of clothes shopping, I find much more humour both in the queries and the responses I give to the queries.
Sometimes I actually look forward to bizarre responses because they make such good stories. I have now collected so many funny stories that I would like to begin sharing them with you on a regular basis. Some are one-liners and others are longer tales. Their purpose is not to make fun of the people who make the remarks, but simply to make fun of the whole situation. I hope you get as much of a kick out of them as I do.
This week’s tale:
For a period of time I took the train to Toronto every week. The staff was always the same. The conductor with the moustache and the porter with the large frame and loud voice to match. Every week I took the train for at least a year and it was the same staff coming and going. Over that time, my belly did not change size noticeably. I looked pregnant at the beginning of that year and pregnant at the end of the year.
One day, near the end of my year, I rushed along the Toronto platform to catch the train home. Maybe the porter saw something different in me that day, maybe the weather was warmer and I was wearing fewer clothes, maybe he wasn’t used to seeing me standing up. For whatever reason, my belly suddenly caught his attention that day.
As I approached him, he bellowed in his loud voice, “Are we reproducing?”