Now, on to a story from California.
The day before the wedding, Ronnie’s sisters and I decided to get manicures and pedicures. Due to my nail-biting habit (gross, I know) a manicure was pointless for me, but I was in love with the idea of a pedicure (never mind that I was actually wearing closed-toed shoes to the wedding.)
We went over to the nail place and three of us settled right in for our pedicures. I saw the lady turn on my sister-in-law’s (Aubrey) massager and Ronnie’s cousin’s (Maggie) massager, but she didn’t turn on mine. I figured she forgot.
So, Maggie kindly found the control on the side and pushed start. The machine had not been running for more than 10 seconds when the nail lady (NL1) runs from the other side of the store yelling, “No, No, NO! YOU HAVE BABY, YOU HAVE BABY!”
I had totally forgotten that I can’t have a massage unless it is a specific pregnancy massage. I apologized and continued to enjoy the massage that my feet were getting in the water.
A few minutes later a different nail lady (NL2) came to actually treat my feet. She noticed my massager was not on and turned it on. Instead of explaining everything to her and having another awkward conversation in broken English, I just turned it off.
She looked at me quizzically and asked, “You not like?”
Meanwhile NL1 had seen the whole thing from across the store and ran over again.
She was, of course, yelling. “SHE HAVE BABY, SHE HAVE BABY!” She then proceeded to give a stern lecture to NL2 in a language I am not privileged to know.
By this time, the entire store knew that I was pregnant and probably assumed that I was a complete idiot for turning on my massager twice.
And for the rest of the weekend, whenever one of Ronnie’s sisters would see me standing too long, etc they would yell. “YOU HAVE BABY, YOU HAVE BABY!”
No comments:
Post a Comment