Today I met Cynical at our favorite Chinese restaurant. If you don't believe me, take a whiff of this shirt.
As I was dipping every single item on my plate in the pink sweet and sour sauce, a high school buddy of mine stopped at the table. I hadn't seen her in quite a while, and as we reminisced I couldn't help but envision her in her 1986 silver prom dress and super-permed hair. I am only hoping that she didn't picture me in my pink and lace version with the flourescent hearts and stars.
During the actual conversation part of this visit, she said two things that stuck with me. The first was that I hadn't changed a bit. I am still deciding if that is a compliment or a jab. All depends on what you thought of me back then, I guess. I'd like to think I am light years from braces, a Trapper Keeper at my side and stirrup pants. (Cynical insists that this was a compliment, that I appear youthful. I think it means I am still a nerd.)
The second topic that stuck with me was her insistence that I still had time to have children. You know, given modern medicine and such. They are making such headway in geriatric care, afterall. (To mother or not to mother is such a personal choice. It amazes me that some make it such a casual topic, as if it is the weather or the canned vs. frozen pea debate.)
After she left and I paid for our bill, Cynical and I were walking through the parking lot. I explained I had decided that the next time I was nearly bullied into birthing children that I'd simply come up with some outrageous lie to get me off the hook. And being as I can't come up with a reasonably plausible medical explanation and I really don't want to delve into my personal choices, I'd just simply say, "I was gored by a bull." (Surely a good bull goring story would distract the bully, right?)
As we approached our cars, for some reason we felt the need to name others our age that didn't have kids.
Cynical: Did she just never want to have them or was something wrong?
Ragged: I don't know, they just never did.
Cynical: Was her uterus you know, what do they call it, "beligerant"?
Ragged: Like "a rocky place where his seed could find no purchase"*? Actually, maybe you mean "hostile".
With that, I got in the car, realizing that the bull goring story was our only hope for an excuse.
*Ripped directly from "Raising Arizona".
Monday, September 11, 2006
Beware of beligerant uteri
So sayeth Ragged Around the Edges at Monday, September 11, 2006
Filed neatly away: Conversation
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4 comments:
Just scream "NO MEANS NO!!!!" They'll be so confused, they'll leave you alone. ;)
Or, turn it around on them. "Why on earth would I want to do that?!" Any reason they give, eye them skeptically (maybe even wrinkle your nose).
For the record, people have told me for years "Oh, you'll change your mind." I haven't even wavered.
We humans tend to be less than reasonable about some things. Of course, we base our assessments of others on our own little worlds. Therefore, since I have children, so should you. Human nature is unlikely to change over this, unfortunately. For those dolts in our midst, may I apologize.
How about turning the tables back to your inquisitor? When the questions or rationalizations begin, ask "Why is my choice (or "my uterus") so important to you?" Or simply, "Why do you ask?" Something that puts the process of explanation back on the one who is poking a nose where they shouldn't. You shouldn’t feel put on the spot and have to answer, whether the answer is explanation or avoidance! Shut ‘em down!
BTW, I have no idea what you look like, but the recently retired social worker assessment skills in me say that the connection between “you haven’t changed” and “you should have children” is saying, “let’s ruin your body so you’ll look like the rest of us!!” I’d say you got a compliment, albeit, a rather awkward and thoughtless one.
I have got to rent "Raising Arizona" again!
ohhhhh...we get that all the time. We just say: "we're still practicing". No one has ever continued the conversation beyond that.
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