This pregnancy thing, that is. My inclination has been to feel cranky because people won't let me pick up anything that weighs more than a trashy paperback (even though I clearly pick things up when they're not looking--nothing too heavy mind you, but laundry, dishes, dressers, crap like that) and pretend that I'm a consumptive invalid rather than a perfectly healthy female carrying a watermelon in her gut (okay, a honeydew melon right now, but still). But this is gold, people. Gold! Why, just now I went to the grocery store and a man who looks like he might have killed and eaten his own mother jumped out of my way, being overly polite, not once BUT TWICE! He even gave me his place in line, which I protested, but since he did look like he wasn't adverse to drawing a little blood, I let him win. And then, when I walked back to the car (CARRYING MY GROCERIES, MIND YOU), a car actually stopped at the cross walk. Stopped completely! They even gave me the wave and smiled! Why, it's as though I got sucked through a worm-hole onto a polite planet earth.
I'm soooooo wearing this maternity shirt to jury duty in a couple of days. It should get me out of that courtroom faster than you can say "Perry Mason."