A couple weeks ago I loaded the kids up in the car to go play at the mall and grab lunch at the food court (if you are wondering who "plays" at the mall, the answer is people who have snow in the middle of April...stinking Jersey). We got our play time in (there is a legitimate play place okay), got some shopping in (thanks to the Burger King bribing) and then waited in the extra long line to buy our chicken nuggets and french fries. While waiting in the extra long line, I had my internal debate of, "Do I cave and get myself fries and a milkshake, or do I wait until I get home and stuff my face with a healthier alternative??" By the time we finally reached the front of the line, there was no question. I grabbed the two Kids Meal bags, my large vanilla shake, and the small bag with the large fry in it. I immediately ditched that bag so as to allow easier hand-to-mouth access. I start walking the kids to the table so they can begin their feasting (I have obviously already started mine...I believe the belly warrants eating anytime, anywhere), when we pass by Subway. Another internal debate immediately starts brewing. "I don't need a sandwich, but I could use the protein (and by protein, I mean bacon), but I have a near meal in my hands and the kids are starving, but a warm toasty sandwich sounds so good." Before I know it, I am standing in front that glorious glass wall ordering my foot long turkey and provolone with bacon on wheat (while highly commending myself for opting for the wheat over the ever-so-tempting Parmesan and who-knows-what-else concoction). Naturally, I continue feeding my face with fries and slurping down my milkshake while my sandwich toasts into gooey goodness (Hello, who wouldn't?? Fries are no good lukewarm, and milkshakes don't last long around the two monkey children). Then Mr. Subway man asks me if I would like him to cut the sandwich into four pieces to make it easier for the kids to share. A normal person would say yes, or no thanks, or some other sane phrase. Strangely this did not happen for me. I nearly yelled at the boy, shrieking, "No, that sandwich is all mine." Shrieking people. Shrieking. Instantly I hoped that what I thought heard come out of my mouth, and the tone with which it escaped my lips, was all imagined. But the look on Mr. Subway man's face shattered all hope. I grabbed my sandwich and herded the kids to a table in a far-off corner so that I may wallow in my embarrassment. I even hesitated for a good five minutes before opening my toasted goodness and rapidly consuming it.
Lesson learned: Nothing bad can happen with allowing people to think that the 42 tons of food ordered for yourself are actually going to be shared among a large village. Nothing. However, yelling and insisting that the food be kept for yourself will only make you feel and look like an obese idiot.
Now it's your turn. Share with us one of your pregnancy related posts, from the past or present. Is there a better way to kick-off the weekend??