"Hi Honey is your Daddy Home?"

My last two blogs have been about getting old and looking preggo. Well here's a new one. Today we were having a dumpster delivered to our house (don't ask). I peered out the window when I saw the thing pull up and then waited a half an hour as the man sat in his truck doing St. Peter knows what. Finally I see this ancient two hundred year old man get out of his truck (this explains the long wait--his Depends may have been bunched up or he couldn't remember why in all of Charles Dickens was he sitting in a dump truck) and wobbles up to my doorstep. I answer the door and he says "Hi honey I'm supposed to deliver this dumpster, is your dad going to be home soon." I assumed he was talking to me not the child in the diaper, but by the tone in his voice I really couldn't tell. So to ease this poor man's confused mind I said "my husband ordered it." He looked at me in disbelief and then asks where I want the thing put. I see him walk away shaking his head in disbelief. That'll teach me not to answer the door without wearing makeup.So here is what I'm thinking. This man thought I was fifteen, the old woman from my last blog thought I was preggo....so what am I? A pregnant fifteen year old? Why don't you just call me Jamie Lynn Spears and make a day of it. So if I try to stay young looking and wear trendy clothes I look preggo. If I try to get away without makeup I look like a polygamist's bride. Where is the justice. I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. So from now on I'll be wearing tight clothes and tons of makeup. I may look like a two dollar street walker but at least I'll look my age and my size.