Ex-SQUEEZE Me?

Oy.

I have pretty much been steaming over this post since Saturday night, when the "incident" I'm about to write about occurred. Allow me to set the stage for you:

I was at a community fundraiser event in Muskegon with Kelli on Saturday. She's kind of a big deal around the state, so she was asked to emcee and perform at said fundraiser. I went for (mostly) entertainment value and to enjoy one of our last sister weekends before WIP arrives.

We arrived at the venue on Saturday a bit before the show began and I was wandering around, looking for Kelli. (Please note: I had on the same outfit I wore to my shower - polka dot dress, black tights, black ballet flats...I promise this is important information.) Anyway, I found Kelli and we were walking to the restroom (surprise!) when a grumbly old woman approached me and snarled, "You're pregnant. This is your first."

What I wanted to say was, "Yes, Captain Obvious. I AM pregnant. How astute of you to notice!" But I mustered all the fake pleasantness I could and said, "Yep! My first - due in April. We're so excited!"

And the snarly old wench said back to me (as she scanned her rich, snobby judgemental eyes up and down me), "I could tell. Those ankles!"

Hold me back. I'm gonna rip her face off. She said "Those ankles!" as if I had some sort of flesh eating bacteria all over my body and I repulsed her to her very core.

Remembering that I was a guest of Kelli's and not wanting to embarrass her, I swallowed my true feelings and plastered a Patty Pageant smile on my face and said through clenched teeth, "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for pointing that out. It really makes a pregnant girl feel good about herself." And laughed it off.

To which SHE replies (again, with the eye roll and judgmental eye-scan), "Well, I'm a doctor. I notice these things."

SERIOUSLY. I was more appalled than I've ever been in my life. A doctor of ALL people should know that you DON'T point out a prego-woman's cankles. As if I don't feel disgusting enough already.

In summary: she sucks. And I'm wearing pants from here on out.

**Edited to add: In my pregnant state of absentmindedness, I neglected to mention that I returned home from said trip to a fabulously cleaned house, complete with laundry done, folded and put away. And the ironing was done, too! I told you Joey was awesome. Be jealous.