If Charlie Brown were a 25 year old woman...

I would like to preface this story by saying:  I'm not a large person.  In fact, I'm rather small.  As a kid I could only have been describe as scrawny, and while not as boney and twiglike as I was when I was younger, I'm still rather thin.  I wear size "small" t-shirts.  My dress size is about a 4.  I've been whining and moaning a lot lately about gaining a few pounds and how I feel fat, but the truth is, I'm still pretty small and I'm just complaining because - well - sometimes a girl just needs to complain, even if it's over something dumb and petty. 

 

I'm not saying this to sound like a snooty jerk bragging about her weight.  There's nothing wrong with being not small.  Or even with being large, as long as you're healthy and happy.  I'm just making the point about my size because to truly understand the hilarity of this story, you have to know, I'm small.

 

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So the other day I went shopping and bought this shirt in "knight navy" at Delias.  As with pretty much every shirt or dress nowadays, it's an "empire waist" meaning "we fashion designers think your waist belongs directly below your boobs". 
 
So I'm wearing my lovely new shirt at work today and I'm walking towards the bathroom with my hand kinda clutched near my waist (I have no pockets and I was trying to be discreet about the pad - as in sanitary napkin, not notebook - I was carrying.  Why I thought holding the thing in right in front of me was discreet, I have no idea.) and I run into one of the building's cleaning women.  She's pretty young, probably younger than me, and she doesn't speak much English at all, but I always smile and wave when I see her 'cause she spends a lot of time in the lobby where I sit cleaning and vacuuming and stuff.
 
Anyway, I run into the girl and I smile at her and she smiles back and suddenly she points at me and says, "You - baby?"
 
"Sorry?"
 
"You - baby?" And she's pointing at my stomach.
 
The girl thought I was pregnant.
 
Fortunately, turning bright red, waving my arms around and yelling "No! No! No!" gets the point across in almost any language.  
 
Stupid fashion designers and their stupid baby doll shirts.
 
I know it really has to be because of the shirt but still...I think this must be how Charlie Brown feels after Lucy pulls the football away.  Except fat.