Knocked Up Ahhh I can’t help but think of this every time I decide to leave the comfort of the couch and my slippers for an oh-so-rare night out with friends. I can no longer hide the fact that I have a keg strapped to my front, it sticks out, bumps into people and can even hold the odd cuppa tea when I have full hands.
Decided to go out last night to see a girlfriend DJ at Never Land Bar, so a group of us girls did ourselves up, laughed, gossiped and I donned all black as it supposedly is ‘slimming’. Once out I replay the Knocked Up – ‘You’re old, she’s pregnant’ over and over in my head, I worry that people are going to look at me and be judging me for bad parenting by being surrounded by my drunk friends. Not to mention by robot-esque dance moves, cutting shapes on the dancefloor just like old times. Who needs Zumba, right?! Sipping my soda water and lime, I realise that there are quite a few eyes on me, and I can’t help but search their faces for any type of sign that maybe they think what I am doing is wrong. Seems after 10 years in clubs I am quite the nightclub rookie…. Never EVER look a guy in the eyes in a nightclub. Unless you’re single, not preggo and he’s a total smoking babe. Somehow this rule had completely gotten lost in me worrying if I looked inappropriate or not, so then dealt with the onslaught of drunk weirdo’s all staring at my boobs while asking if I wanted a drink or to dance with them. OH DEAR GOD!
And it was then that I remembered that guys in nightclubs don’t look any further south than large bazookas attached to chests, so in actually fact these drunk monkeys had no idea of my circumstances. I hid out in the bathroom for a while, mainly just to sit somewhere and relax, and on the way out had a guy in his early 20’s waiting for me…. he made small chit chat, I smiled politely and proceeded to stick my belly out as far as humanly possible. He looked down at it and suddenly cut his sentence short. “….oh!” It was then I realised that I would rather everyone know I was pregnant, so they could move out of the way on the stairs, not try to pick me up, buy me drinks, or bump into me. But then again, like I said – ‘You can’t have a bunch of crazy old pregnant bitches running around.’ Well noted. The slippers are well and truly back on.
