So clearly, I am going to burn in hell. I have had many, many messages and calls of concern (and congratulations) regarding my pregnancy. Fortunately, I am not pregnant. Nor am I entertaining the idea. But that fact did little to deter me in the maternity section of a going-out-of-business sale at a baby store.

I entered the store in the hope that I might find something for either my pregnant friend or sister-in-law; or anyone for that matter given its recent popularity. Alas, I found several cute pieces of clothing, and as it always goes, I wanted them for my non-maternity self.

And so it was that I found myself carrying several pieces of maternity clothing into the dressing rooms. Upon entering, I found a strange little soft bump of fabric with elastic straps attached. I immediately became giddy and found myself giggling out loud. I promptly called my husband over to my dressing stall and, after having enthusiastically changed, giggling all the while, popped out of the dressing stall, literally.

My husband and I went into convulsions of course, me gripping my fo-belly and he diligently whipping out his camera phone. Immediately, the possibilities began to overwhelm me and the laughing went ultrasound. If I would have had to pee, I would have done it. Right on the dressing room floor.

Needless to say, we didn’t make the pregnant, and likely disgruntled, going-out-of-business employee very happy. She rudely “reminded” us that no pictures were to be taken in the mall - for Security Purposes. ‘Cause the normative operation of terrorists include maternity stores, dressing rooms, and baby bumps in blue dresses…

Our immediate fun ruined, I quickly changed and left the dressing rooms - but purchased the dress. It was originally two hundred dollars. I bought it for twenty-five.

That evening I mischievously posted one of my images online. Almost immediately I began receiving messages of surprise, congratulations, humorous applaud, and even indignate disbelief. Perhaps the most entertaining was a call from my own mother:

Q. Do you have something you want to tell me?
     A. (giggling ensues) No. Calculate it, I would have to have been pregnant in January.
Q. I know. And I saw you in March and you were drinking.
     A. (giggling increases) … I know …
Q. So your not pregnant?
     A. (barely breathing) No. It was a belly bump at a maternity store.
Q. Oh. Well you look cute!
     A. Thanks.
Q. I just wanted to confirm you weren’t pregnant and drinking in March.
     A. (still giggling) Well, I wasn’t pregnant in any case.

Clearly I enjoyed myself too much. And even more clearly, people do not know me very well. Nonetheless, I have made my bed in hell.