And so it has gone since I started dressing to accommodate my new little partner in fashion crime. Y has never been shy about telling me what he actually thinks about what I'm wearing (which I like -- sometimes I listen and sometimes I override his thoughts), but lately his comments have really been making me laugh.
So, instead of standing in front of a wall week after week in a tight shirt and answering questions about how many stretch marks I have and whether my wedding ring is on or off, I thought this would be a more fun way to document my pregnancy (and keep the age old Just Dandy tradition of poking fun at Y alive).
I wore these $5 H&M maternity pants on my flight home from Carol Convention and opted out of the body scanner at the airport. As the nice pat-down lady started her pat-down routine and I stood with my arms out wide, she put her hands on my hips.
"Is this your waist band?" she asked.
"Nope," I replied. "Higher."
She moved her hands up a few inches. "Here?"
She moved her hands up a few inches above my belly button. "Here?"
She moved her hands up until they were basically at my bra. "Here?" she asked, exasperated.
"There you go."
And then she pulled my shirt up so the entire San Diego airport could see my 4 month pregnant torso covered in this pattern that makes me "look like a weird bug."
SPOILER ALERT: I had no weapons on my person.