I was at Starbucks the other day and just like always the barista (are they even still called that?) says to me…
“Did you have a surrogate for your twins?”
And I’m all like, I’ll have a half caf grande soy no foam latte and what about that SURROGATE thing?
And he proceeds to repeat the question, “Did you have a surrogate?”
What is happening here?! Does he have me confused with Sarah Jessica Parker? Is he recommending surrogates if I’m interested in adding to my family without that troublesome “can’t drink, get fat” thing? Or does he, gasp, think I’m too old to give birth to my children?
Oh my god, he thinks I’m too old.
I can only imagine this is some kind of cosmic retribution because I unintentionally made someone cry at the doctor’s office recently. I didn’t mean to. I was in the waiting room and this one very curious lady asked me about my twins and what was it like having four children. And because I didn’t feel very sugarcoaty that day, I said, “Amazing but completely and ridiculously overwhelming.”
Shortly after another woman, also sitting in the waiting room, says all teary eyed, “I just found out I’m pregnant with my fourth. We weren’t planning on having a fourth. And now that I’m listening to you, I’m just so freaked out.”
Oh dear. But in all fairness to me, how the hell am I supposed to know this chick next to me is PREGNANT. With her FOURTH.
So I explain that my life is actually quite joyous. And I absolutely adore all my children. And it is really the 14-month-old twins that make it a bit, just a bit, overwhelming sometimes. But I wouldn’t return any of them. Not a single one. Well, maybe Summer. But just for an afternoon. And then I would totally want her back.
I think I am able to calm this woman a little bit and then thank goodness, the nurse calls my name.
So I could only imagine as I stood there in Starbucks, looking very quizzically at the barista, that maybe I was being punished in some way for unintentionally causing that pregnant mother undue emotional stress.
“Umm… no. I didn’t have a surrogate. Why?” I ask.
“Because you don’t look like you had twins.”
Ohhhhhhhhh. This is a compliment. The worst executed compliment ever – but still, a compliment! He thinks I look good for having given birth to twins. Well, lordy barista/coffee maker/caffeine worker bee…. next time just say, “You look great for having had twins.”
I wonder if I can get a free coffee for undue emotional stress.