Don't Mess

I think this woman is pregnant...

I think as a pregnant woman I've been pretty good.  I haven't just broken down into tears (this week) no, just kidding, I haven't craved pickles and ice cream or have I been on the internets all day looking through names, strollers and other crap like that. (Yes, I realize I'm going to have to come to terms with all those things.)  But, the other day, I got to admit, I sort of had a "pregnant moment."

So, on Saturday the husband and I traveled up to the valley to play a round of golf.  (No, the stomach isn't getting in the way, and the extra boobage has actually helped my short game because it forces my arms to hold onto something.)  Too much?  Anyway, we were having a great day, only three expletives had been used, when we got stopped at the 16th hole.  In front of us were, how do you say, was a group of complete white trash.  First, the foursome had a "gentleman" wearing a tank top, cut off shorts and green Converses.  His drive typically went about ten yards and his club went about fifteen...well, after screaming the "f" word.  His partner, who wore a Taylormade hat, which obviously makes you an expert at golf, usually hit about six balls off the tee, all followed by a scream and some promise to his white trash buddies that he was actually better than this.  There's was a chick, who between smoke breaks would hit the ball a foot and then wait about ten minutes, and then there was one guy, who I think actually knew how to play, but was being held hostage for information on his kidnapped wife. I'm not exactly sure.  Anyway, after waiting about twenty minutes for them to finish the hole, we rushed through our turn in order for them to allow us to play through.  However, as we waited, which apparently you have to do in golf, for them to say we could play through, they just ignored us and drove off.

At that moment this insane rage came over me.  I felt like the Hulk and all I wanted to do was drive over to them, kick them in their faces and drive their balls (golf) down their throats. I honestly could not calm down.  As I stomped around, throwing my hands up in the air and screaming about how selfish and white trash they were, my husband tried to remain calm.  Sure, he was mad, but my display of out of control anger, he later told me, sort of made him fear for his life.  Consequently, the poor guy tried to say, "Hey, it's alright.  They'll be done in a minute.  You don't need to go crazy."  Did he just say "crazy?"  The only crazy person was the guy calling a pregnant woman crazy, who held onto a golf club in a shaking hand.

Eventually, we decided to just leave because I was truly about to kill someone.

Dear white trash folks at Woodley Lakes Golf Course,

One day we will meet again and my husband won't be there to stop me.  That's a promise.