The Cookie Incident

Sometimes a gal that's nine months pregnant just needs to eat a cookie as big as her face. To satisfy my sweet-tooth, I waddled myself over to Potbelly for my late afternoon "feeding". As I was carefully selecting the perfect oatmeal chocolate chip cookie, I heard a voice behind me....

"You should try the mini chocolate cherry cookies."

I politely smiled at this man in line as he peered over my shoulder and pointed to a bag of two much smaller cookies. For a hot second, I toyed with the idea of downsizing my snack. I guess I didn't really need the big cookie... did I? I commend Potbelly for offering smaller portion sizes. But today, I didn't feel like making a good decision.

As if he knew my inner dilemma, he nodded towards my oatmeal monstrosity and said, "Get the smaller ones."

GET THE SMALLER ONES? And that my friends, is when Hungry Pregnant Woman Rage (HPWR) kicked in. Talk to me when you have to schlep around something the size of a watermelon 24/7. I'll eat a cookie the size of a Buick if I want to, asshat. I'm aware that I look like an elephant seal in leggings and an ill-fitting cardigan. By 4pm everyday, I truly feel like the one on the left:

Luckily, I kept my composure, bought my snack, and went on my way. But if that dude ever has a pregnant wife, he'll be sleeping in the garage in no time.