I forgot to mention that when we went to the mall on Saturday, that my stomach was rudely fondled.
Okay so maybe it wasn't as horrible as I make it sound, but I still find it inappropriate to touch another person without permission. Even if her stomach is hanging out at least two feet in front of her.
What happened was this:
We were walking around, minding our business when this lady suddenly leaped out in front of us--
(I'm serious, she leaped in front of us!)
--and asked if she could show us something.
She was one of those people who sell stuff in the malls in those tiny booths.
She also had on a tight shirt, a tiny skirt with black nylons and I almost shudder to say this--leather Uggs.
I understand she has a job but does she have to look like a tart?
Especially if the things she's selling is geared towards women. Which is appeared that everything was.
I suppose if I was a woman who appreciated fashion I might have liked her outfit. Maybe it was designer, I don't know, I pay little attention to such nonsense. And Uggs, I've never understood the purpose of those ugly things.
The problem is, I'm too polite so I said she could show me something.
(But hissed to Tom if she lifted up her shirt and started trying to sell me some new age bra that I was out of there.)
Lucky for me she just lead me to her booth and showed me what looked like an eraser.
But before she got into that her hands were suddenly on my stomach.
"When are you due?" she asked, starting to rub.
I stepped back slightly, hoping she'd drop her hands.
"Um. March 17th," I said and tried to take another step back.
"REALLY?" she boomed. "How FABULOUS!"
She was being overly excited. Or maybe it was her nature, I don't know.
Thankfully she dropped her hands and picked up the eraser thing.
"Now," she began, taking hold of one of my hands.
Excuse me, EXCUSE ME, first you touch my stomach and then you just grab my hand?
"This will make your nails nice and shiny, I promise," the lady went on. She started rubbing one nail with her eraser thing. She rambled on about something in the ocean and minerals. To be honest, I wasn't paying attention. I mean it's just my NAILS who cares? Seriously. But the way she was going on, you'd think nails were important.
Blah blah blah.
Ocean ocean ocean.
Seaweed seaweed seaweed.
"You see!" the lady said.
She moved the eraser away and my nail was shiny. And smooth.
"Isn't it BEAUTIFUL?"
Her face was inches away from mine.
Hello, did she not learn about personal space?
"Um..it's shiny," I finally said.
I mean what did she expect? For me to do cartwheels down the mall and break out into a song because one of my nails were shiny?
The lady nodded. "YES it's SHINY. And HEALTHY. It will stay like that for a MONTH with this thing," she said, waving the eraser in the air.
(She actually called it by it's proper name but I can't remember it now.)
"Its, um, nice," I said with a shrug.
The lady seemed a little perplexed that I didn't seem more excited about a fingernail.
"So HOW about IT?" she asked, showing me a box that contained an eraser thing.
I shook my head. "Thank you but...I mean they're just nails. I bite my nails.."
She seemed horrified. Her mouth dropped open slightly and then she immediately perked up again.
"Well THAT'S okay. You guys have a WONDERFUL day!"
Then she leaped in front of another person passing by.
"Can I SHOW you SOMETHING?" she boomed to the frightened mall customer who shielded herself with a JC Penney bag.
Tom and I quickly rushed away.
"Haha," Tom chuckled as we walked away.
"Haha WHAT?" I asked.
"You have one shiny nail now."
Which is true. I do have one shiny nail. The rest of my nails look dull in comparision.
But again, they're just nails.
Today I need to pick up some things at the grocery store.
My Mom arrives on Thursday.
Tom calls it the day that junk food ceases to exist.
Because when I told my Mom that some days we might just go out to eat she went, "Oh nonsense, I'll cook!"
She gave me a list of things that she likes to eat.
For lunch all she has is one of those icky Slim Fast Optima drinks.
Or leftovers, of course.
"Now don't you ever throw anything out because I will eat it," she said.
I have to be in the mood for leftovers.
But Mom, she can eat them for a week straight and not bat an eyelash.
"It pains me to throw things out," she says.
I think she might have a heart attack when she sees our snack cupboard.
Little Debbie snacks galore.
And like five different cereals.
When I was growing up I was only allowed one cereal at a time and I had to finish it before I got a new one.
I always vowed that when I had my own house that I'd have different cereals.
Because hello, sometimes it's a Cocoa Puff morning and sometimes it's a Lucky Charms morning.
Everyone knows that..