In an open letter to this pregnancy,
“I never knew that despite my love for food and cooking, I only ever want to eat a certain amount of times per day. I am tired of snacks. Now excuse me while I eat this apple and granola bar.”
“I never knew that despite my love for food and cooking, I only ever want to eat a certain amount of times per day. I am tired of snacks. Now excuse me while I eat this apple and granola bar.”
“Are you intentionally positioned for maximum sprawl? The purse, the stretching out, you look like you’ve mistaken this area for the beach. Oh, I stand corrected as you bring your unleashed dog into the coffee shop….”
“We both know I was here first. Also, I knew you were going to do that; I could sense it.”
“Well, okay. All of the human smells. One bathroom. With soothing music in the bathroom. Okay.”
“So, if you’re going to be a thing, can you work in my favor sometimes? For example, the stereotype of black women are super intimidating/scary should stop people from letting their children virtually crawl on me in public spaces. If I sneeze, this little girl next to me is going to get the full force of my mouth mist.”
“Your pacing is freaking me out. Also, why do you pace away from your things and then stand directly in front of me for a pause?”
“No headphones, eh?”
“Please help me avoid asking that man if he dyes his very thick, very dark mustache.”
“My voyeuristic eye zoomed in on this public intimacy. Now, I am fixated on your dirty fingernails.”
“I’m having a hard time reconciling the tightness of your ponytail with the looseness of your lips.”