Yesterday and today I have been battling an attack of the swollen extremities. Â My hands have swollen to freak-like proportions. Â My feet and ankles look like hobbit feet. Â And the swelling is continuing up my legs. Â Its reeeeel perty. Â To combat this cruel trick of nature, I have been trying to get out of my office and walk every hour to get the blood flowing. Â Yesterday afternoon, I decided the perfect distance to walk would be to the cafe around the corner from my office where it just so happens my favorite cookies are sold.
When I hobbled up to the counter, I asked the nice woman behind the register for a chocolate chip cookie, please. Â Before she processed my order, she says to me real sweet like, “When are you due, honey?”
“In June,” I said, smiling.
“JUNE?!?!” the woman screeches. Â ”In JUNE? Â You haven’ twins?”
“Um, no,” I stammer, now blushing. Â ”Just one baby in there. Â Can I get my cookie?”
The woman stands there for a second, staring at my belly. Â And then she turns and yells into the back room, “BERTHA! Â You gots to come see this!”
At this point, students are starting to stare (I work on a college campus) and I’m starting to blush even more. Â And my feet are getting bigger by the second. Â And I still don’t have my damn cookie.
Here comes Bertha.
“Bertha, look at this. Â She’s not havin’ this baby till June and she’s not havin’ twins neither! Â That’s just one baby!”
Now, Bertha seems to have something resembling a soul and so she says, “June’s not that far away. Â She’s ’bout right.”
“Nuh uh,” insists the Evil Cookie Withholder. Â ”That’s TWO MORE MONTHS. Â She’s already huge! Â Two more months and she won’t be able to move!”
“Uh…can I just get my cookie?” I ask, as politely as my twin-size belly will allow me.
Both women seem to come to their senses for a minute and they give me the most sympathetic smiles they can muster.
“Here you go, Sugar,” says Bertha, handling me a cookie. Â ”You need this cookie. Â You take it on the house.”
A pity cookie. Â I was given a pity cookie because I’m so enormous that people think I’m having twins. Â Under normal circumstances, I would have told those women just where to stick their pity cookie. Â But the fact is, they’re right. Â I’m huge and I’ve got two whole months left. Â I have people calling friends over to point and discuss my size. Â I’m swelling more than a fat lady at a buffet. Â These are not normal circumstances.
And so, I took their pity cookie. Â And I hobbled my way back to my office, thoroughly enjoying ever last crumb.