"My bump is huge. People want to touch it. People do. Why is it that complete strangers, have no qualms in placing their hands upon the swollen belly of a mum to be... when they don't even bloody well know you? Madness. My bump is so huge, perhaps they think it comes with an unspoken invite? Yet, if I turn around, you would never know I was up the duff. Look, if one more person has a feel, I may have to start walking backwards?!"
If, as a pregnant woman, you too, carried heavily, you will probably know exactly what I'm on about here... many people simply cannot resist the urge to lay their hands upon your baby bump.
A fine example is the complete stranger in the checkout queue; usually a little old lady, who actually believes it is her God given right to touch your pregnant self.
They nonchalantly glance at you, and then they clock your bump, and then they light up. Suddenly they're beside you, talking to you, asking all manner of frank questions; 'When are you due?', 'Is it your first?', 'How are you feeling?', (out of my comfort zone now). At the same time, they just cannot help themselves... (one hand), the gentle pat, the prod, the smooth, and (both hands), the squeeze, and sometimes, Lord help me, even the push.
It's difficult to say get off isn't it? I would carry on as normal, perhaps trying to busy myself with the shop in the process. Only then, would they maybe sense that actually this wasn't their cargo to coo over and I wasn't a mother to smother.
Having been reminded in the previous (pregnancy diary) post of how big my baby bump became, I've since remembered two tales that now need to be told. One involves an awkward grandpa lunge and grab, and the other involves the delightful matter of poo! See, said I had a lot of poo stories. I just have to write them down.
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