So. I got a haircut yesterday. While I must admit, it looks fucking fierce, I don’t really think that it elevated me to super hot bombshell status or anything. I mean, I’m still me – you know 7 (almost 8!) months pregnant with junk in the trunk and barely enough energy to even put on mascara in the morning.
Well. Apparently almost every man I encountered on my walk from home to the subway this morning though differently. I have not been catcalled so much in a very long time. And I’m 7 months pregnant .
Now, it could just be because the weather here is finally warming up, and I do find that nothing lets the dogs out here in NYC quiet like that first warm day, but for real? I heard it all on my way to the train from the innocent nod and smile from the old man, to the good morning that is tinged with that “hey baby” kind of vibe to one that always forces me to LOL – “God bless you baby”.
For real? You could see my belly poking out of my jacket. You see that picture up there? There is no hiding that thing
I know, I know, as much as I can’t really wrap my mind around this, some people think pregnant women are hot. I just don’t expect the all the (unwanted) attention from the dog pound on a spring morning.