I Need Some Compliments

"I am not bullimic, I just need some compliments", says Bret. I know how he feels, except I am not suffering from being too small. Quite the opposite, in fact. Here is the sad story: I was in Prescott, visiting for my sister-in-law's baby shower. One night my mom and I stopped into Fry's to get some fudge-icles. As we stood in line, with Konrad in tow, the store manager comes over and starts playing with him. He is talking baby talk to Konrad, when he points to his tummy, then to mine and says, "baby", indicating the baby in my belly. Now for the sad part, folks. This same convo did not happen until I was a good 20 weeks pregnant with Konrad. It is so sad, in fact, that I am not going to tell you how far along I am right now. It is just too depressing.
At the same time, at least I look pregnant enough for a Fry's store manager to have enough confidence that I am pregnant, not just a fattie, although that is certainly up for debate. The bad news- it is not twins. I mean, that is actually good news, the bad news is that I don't have an excuse for being so large. I do, however, still fit into my skinny jeans. And by skinny jeans, I don't mean jeans I can only wear when I am a size 0 (which is never). I mean cigarette or matchstick jeans, as I think J. Crew calls them. I don't call them cigarette jeans b/c I don't smoke. So that must mean something, right?
So, like Bret, I think I just need some compliments. Perhaps David Bowie will appear in my freaky dream and tell me to wear an eye patch. Certainly that would be awesome. Unfortunately, I don't have an eye patch and I heard that it affects your depth perception, so I am not going there. It will all work out in the end, I suppose. I guess even Bowie lacks in confidence, at least that is what I have heard.