There’s a nasty little joke that runs rampant through hospital halls faster than a case of MRSA:
Q: “What’s the difference between a day shift nurse and a night shift nurse?”
A: “About 30 pounds”
Lemme tell you: I became the butt of THAT joke pretty damned quickly after my first year of working night shift. 50 lbs of funny, to be exact….
Turns out, when you work night shift, eat French fries at 2am, sleep erratically, and have an inability to exercise because you are busy sleeping standing up, your body will revolt. At least, mine did. And it wasn’t pretty.
So you can imagine how DELIGHTED I was when I ran into a colleague about a year into my stint of working nights and we had the following conversation:
Him: “Look at you! You must be so excited!”
Me: “Well, working in the ICU is pretty Boss Hogg, I’ll admit…”
Him: “No! I’m talking about your OTHER news!” (insert gesture to my general abdominal region).
Me: “Wait, what? NOOOO, I’m not pregnant!”
Him: “Oh….so how old is the baby now?”
Me: “No kids yet, my friend…”
Him: .”……………………Oh, well, uh, you just look, uhm, different, since I last saw you….”
Yeah, that happened.
I walked away from that conversation absolutely CRUSHED. Humiliated. Mortified.
And downright PISSED.
Listen up, America, because I’m only going to say this ONCE:
YOU DON’T GET TO ASK IF A WOMAN IS PREGNANT. EVER.
It’s none of your flipping, nosey, too ignorant for words business.
NONE. OF. YOUR. BUSINESS.
Here, let’s practice with my SHOULD I ASK A WOMAN IF SHE’S UP A POLE? Quiz (which, frankly, should be added to BuzzFeed immediately):
1). Do you ask a woman at the bus stop you haven’t seen all summer if she’s pregnant? NO.
2). You see a random woman at the grocery store whose gut has the telltale sign that she’s growing a human in her abdomen. Do you comment? Hell to the freaking NO. Because RUDE. Because STRANGER.
3). True or False: Women want to be asked if they are gestating (you had BETTER have answered FALSE).
4). A woman who looks like she has a watermelon shoved up her shirt is shuffling through the mall, alternately rubbing her belly and placing her hands on the small of her back. She is overheard complaining she has to pee every five minutes and is headed toward Cinnabon. Do you:
A). Ask her when she is due.
B). Tell her that motherhood will be SO EXCITING FOR HER!
C). Reach out, touch her belly and say, “Aw, I loved being pregnant!”
D). Continue walking past her without opening your mouth and proceed on to Williams Sonoma to purchase a pot to bang over the head of the person who asks this poor unsuspecting soul if she’s pregnant.
5). You are standing on a Labor and Delivery floor and a woman is in seemingly active labor. Do you ask if the baby is coming? NO, you moron, you don’t ask pregnant women stupid questions. Go get her some ice chips NOW. I said STAT. (Sorry, THAT was a trick question…my bad).
I don’t care who you are, what your intentions are or whether you think you have the “I Can Tell A Knocked Up Woman From A Mile Away” superpower: it is NEVER okay to comment on the current status of a woman’s uterus.
What annoys me the most about this epidemic of ignorant stupidity is that people actually think it’s OKAY to say the words out loud. It’s as if these morons haven’t been taught “If you have to ASK the question, it’s probably not a good idea”. These are the same people who probably ask if the sky is blue, where Grant is buried and whether you can cry under water. Oh, and they probably say “supposably” and “Valentime’s”, too. But, I digress.
What makes me even crazier is that there is not an equivalent question asked of men. Think about it. No one asks men if their boobs are real, what they “do all day” or if they are having twins (and believe you me, I’ve seen PLENTY of men sporting guts the size of triplets). I swear to Hello Kitty, the next time a man asks me if I’m ready to pop out another Fruit Loop, I might just counter with “So, when did you lose that other testicle?” with a glance down at his junk.
On behalf of all the belly gaining, pear shaped, extra fluffy women out there, I implore the procreation obsessed, ignorant mouth opening, question asking asshats to THINK TWICE before they verbally assault a woman and her innards on the street. Keep your comments regarding America’s uteri to yourself and realize that your selfish need for information does not outweigh basic manners. I won’t ask you what happened to your testicles, you don’t ask me about the miracle of life behind my belly button. I won’t comment on the fact that your thighs don’t touch and that your abs are rock hard because you haven’t shoved a cantaloupe out of your hoo ha and you can just zip it about my midsection the size of Texas. It’s as simple as that.
And just to clear things up: no, it’s NOT my time of the month, no, my Fruit Loops are NOT adopted and yes, the ladies are REAL.
I’m glad we understand each other.
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