Over the weekend three different male customers wished me a happy mother's day. I didn't correct any of them. It happened so fast; I didn't know what to do, even after my inner bully commented on what an awkward idiot I am after the first well wisher walked away.  I just said, "Oh, thanks!" and even, "Thanks, you too!" to one man. I felt guilty about accepting wishes to enjoy a day not intended for me, and now I'm worried that I'll have to keep up that lie if and when someone asks how the kids are doing. "Great! We're all doing great. Really great, actually. And you?"

Remember that time I thought I was pregnant but went into the liquor store anyway to bully the owner into purchasing a certain brand of margarita, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to enjoy it for the next nine months, but then I wasn't pregnant so I went back a few weeks later and was thrilled to see that he took my advice? I joined a bunch of websites that week to prepare myself for motherhood. I still get email messages telling me how my little tadpole is growing. It's kind of like having a baby tamagotchi. I check in once a week to see how he's doing. I have a boy -- the email messages refer to "him," so... He's three months and one week old. He can kind of sit up now but I'm told not to leave him unattended, as "even a seemingly stable pre-sitter can topple over." That's a cute visual.  But I wasn't even thinking of my tomagotchi baby when I accepted those wishes for a happy mother's day. I'm a liar and a bad mother.



Do I look like someone who has expelled children? Wait. Rather, do I give the impression that a child is in my custody? I'd take it as the highest compliment. Definitely unlike when someone mistakes me for being pregnant. Like the time in Houston when the husky tow truck driver offered us a discount because, as he points to my stomach, "You two have enough troubles."  When we were honest about not being with child, as I laughed my head off, the man with the big belly (it was a very pot, kettle kind of moment) was noticably embarrassed and deflected by going on a fifteen minute tangent about his adopted children and his desire for grand kids. We still got the discount. But it's not his fault I ate a big lunch and was wearing my eating dress. I can understand the confusion.

I guess I keep getting credit for something I have no business in accepting. I don't believe in karma, but one day it'll catch up to me. My kids are gonna be the worst. I'll probably gain 100 lbs while the bun is in the oven. There will be no mistake about it.