As most of you know, my strange illness has given me a belly that makes me look about seven months pregnant. After so many years I have been able to find the 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. Belly-laugh Fridays is my chance to share these humorous tidbits with all of you. Enjoy.
The other night my mother and I went out to a new restaurant in Toronto. A lovely, chatty waitress served us. She was the dramatic type and entertained us with a story about some other patrons. As we got up to leave she noticed my belly.
“Ah, I didn’t see when you were sitting down. Congratulations. When are you due?”
So now I had a choice. I could tell her the truth:that I wasn’t pregnant, but had a big liver. If I did that, I would likely receive a dramatic response from her. She would feel terrible, she would want my whole story, she would fuss over me. While she was lovely, and I’m sure would be very gracious, I just didn’t want to go down that path.
My other choice was to pretend I was pregnant. If I made this choice, what would I do when I come back two months from now; three months from now; six months from now? Eventually she would need to know or I would have to stop going to the restaurant. Would I have to give up this wonderful new find of a restaurant because I was afraid of a little fuss?
I have to weigh this decision each time I’m asked. ‘Do I tell or don’t I tell?’ is a constant question. What are the pros and cons? Is this someone I’m going to ever see again? Is this someone who I might develop a friendship with? How will this person react? Is this person someone I even want to engage in conversation? This laundry list of question runs through my mind in the split second between when I’m asked and when I answer.
In this case, by the time this waitress noticed my belly I was just tired and ready to go home. I decided to put off the inevitable. I mumbled the usual, “I still have a little ways to go.” and we made a dash for the exit. (I’m sure there are many people who wonder why I’m not more excited and chatty about my ‘pregnancy’.)
One day, when the moment is right and the restaurant is deserted, I will tell this woman the truth. I wouldn’t want to give it up, the food was very good.