So I was sitting at the mirror experimenting with my hair when I overhear the two little ones in the next room.
They weren't trying to be discreet and they weren't fighting. It didn't feel right.
"She's getting fatter!" our son said.
"I know. Did you see her stomach?" his sister co-signed.
"It's probably her bad eating habits and sittin' around when it's evening time."
I stood up slowly and checked my mid-section in the mirror.
Sucked it in a bit.
It was sad that two minors were criticizing me. Yet they weren't laughing so it sound like they were just concerned.
"Well she has had babies to come outta there," our sweet little sympathetic son stated.
He was right about that. And they were big babies: she was 8 pounds and eleven ounces and her brother was nine pounds, eleven ounces. AND MY EPIDURAL DID NOT WORK!!!!!!! "Here baby you want some ice?" Daddy asked. "NO! I want you to have this baby!" Sorry I had a flashback.
"Hey! Maybe she is pregnant again!" our daughter said.
I turned to the side to see if I did look remotely pregnant.
There I was in the mirror panicking from the remarks of two elementary kids.
Then our son asked, "But which one do you think is the daddy?"
That was it!
I hurried in there.
There they were in front of the window, looking out at the stray cats they named earlier this year.
"Mommy...come look at Candice. She's getting fat- I mean overweight," our son said, covering his mouth.
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