Someone asked me today when I'd be having the baby. I must be looking even crappier than I thought, and that's saying something.
Ordinarily I'd joke that saying something like that is justifiable grounds for the other person to kill you, but I could tell she was just as embarrassed as I was at my having to tell her that the kid has been here for a MONTH, and I'm just fat. Really fat. Though I can still waddle out of rooms alll by myself and don't need the Oompah-Loompahs' help rolling me about just yet.
I looked it up online, and having a BMI of only 46% means that I'm not 100% fat, and therefore things aren't entirely bad. I mean, think of all the jobs in the Indonesian sweatshops I'm providing. Five families are eating today because I needed a new pair of pants. I am also supporting about half of the American cotton industry.
And maybe the rock industry, if I can find one big enough to hide under.