Friday, June 24, 2011

Whatever Happened to TACT?

I'm overweight.  I know I am.  It isn't something that I am proud of but it is definitely something I decided to take control of and I am doing something about it.  As a matter of fact, since I started P90X I have lost 11 pounds and a ton of inches off my midsection alone.  I feel fantastic, I have mega-energy and stamina - definitely a boon with a toddler - and I don't get as depressed as I did just a few months prior to starting it.  Those are major pluses in my book.


Cue the first of our tactless provocateurs.  I was entering the Townsend Senior Center, Cernan in tow, and feeling really good about myself because the blouse which I loved in a VS catalog finally didn't make me look like a sausage squeezed into a too-tight casing, and Jeff had just told me that morning how slim I was starting to get.  Well, I passed an elderly woman on her way out.  This woman, who I know to be slightly batty, having had several interactions with her in the past, looked at me as though she were appalled and asked in a shocked tone, "Are you having another baby?"  The look of hurt indignation must have come over my features before I should school them into a passive mask and I replied, very taken aback, "No..." Ya blind, batty loon, I added in my head.  Yes, I know it was uncharitable of me. I am ashamed I thought it.

Had that been the end of things, I wouldn't have given it another thought, but wait!  Not two hours later, as I was waiting for the lady at the RMV to print out my driver's permit, she looked at me with a kindly smile and told me how cute Cernan was.  "Yes, he is, but I'm hardly unbiased," I told her.  She laughed and with her head, indicated my tummy. "Another son?" I blinked a couple of times and must have looked very confused because she asked again, slower, "Are you having another son?" I was too hurt and fabbergasted to do anything other than shake my head dumbly.

Walking out to the car, Jeff told me that it must be the shirt.  It's got a babydoll cut from the bodice down, it's flowy.  It isn't even a little bit tight around me. *heavy sigh* I don't get it.

But wait; there's still more! The next day, a woman whom I became acquainted with a few months ago as one of Jeff's clients came out of the office and we started chatting about how very cold it's been.  Then, out of the blue, she looks at me tenderly and these words left her lips, " Are you pregnant?"

THAT, my friends, was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak.  The tears welled in my eyes (I'm proud to say that I held back the torrential downpour) as I said, "No!"  She immediately apologized and went on to tell me how she knew how I felt, having been asked that same question a few times herself.  I just shook my head and waved my hand, trying to dismiss it, and then to explain the teary sparkle in my eyes, "It's just that you are the third person in less than 24 hours to ask me that." I went on to tell her about my consternation at the question given my recent not-insubstantial inch and weight-loss.

Jeff and I had a long discussion about why he believes I've heard this question so many times in the past couple of days.  His theory is that, because I look so healthy, with a vibrant glow and bright eyes, coupled with what he feels they are picking up as my "pregnant with possibility" vibe, folks don't know what it is they are sensing.  Well, I suppose I can agree with him there. Yesterday I got my business license and now have officially  gone "live" with my online shop, The Natural Path.  The vibrant, healthy glow?  That's P90X, folks! And the next person who even hints at the possibility that I might be pregnant? I may just go all KenpoX on their butt!!

Now, I know I should not have let these comments get to me the way that I did, but it really, really  makes me wonder where all the tactful people live.  Clearly not in Massachusetts!

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