May 16, 2009

please also point and laugh

Today I got to experience first-hand what it might feel like to be a rare species of baboon at the zoo or perhaps even just your average midget.

Hubby and I were perusing the hanging fuschia baskets at the nursery when I first noticed that I was being observed. He was standing a few feet away, eyes trained on my midsection. I smiled, made eye contact, and he nervously retreated. 

We moved on to a different area, chatting and comparing the lovely plants hanging above our heads. Soon I noticed that we were being circled, and those same eyes were boring into me once again. He kept coming closer, as if he was trying to gain the confidence to reach out and poke me with a stick. I smiled again, laughing self-consciously and looking to Gus for a little direction.

"Hey, what's going on?" I finally asked, a bright (fake) smile plastered on my face.

"Um, nothing..." he stammered and then ran away.

Gus and I looked at each other with wide eyes- "wtf?" clearly written all over our faces.

This circling and staring continued for almost five minutes while we selected our basket until I finally just couldn't take it anymore and we had to retreat to another area of the nursery to escape his prying eyes.

Once we were safely out of his earshot and sight line we started trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. Hours later, I'm still wondering.

First of all, yes, it was a child. Now, I fully understand that children aren't always the most graceful creatures, and they maybe haven't been exposed to everything and of course they're naturally curious. It would have made a lot more sense to me, and been a lot less creepy, however, if the child stalking me in the nursery would have been oh, you know, two years old instead of at least ten like my little pursuer was. 

This kid was definitely old enough to have at least known why I have a giant belly- I'm sure that I'm not the first pregnant woman he's ever seen, and yet he was looking at me like he had never seen such a marvel in his life.

It even would have been better if he would have put his curiosity to good use and maybe asked me if I had a baby in there, instead of just circling around and staring at me like that. At first I had to wonder if I had a huge mustard stain on my belly or if my zipper was down or something, but no. The kid was just a freakishly impolite little bastard!

Remind me in a few years to be sure that our kid is spending at least two hours a day watching TLC. I think that perhaps a few episodes of Little People, Big World or The Eight Hundred Pound Man could have done this kid today some good.