Sometimes They Just Won't Take No For An Answer

I like food.  I like dessert.  I like to eat; that's no secret.  That's why I run ran and work out worked out.  So I can eat.  Lots. 

Pregnancy is the perfect excuse to indulge; and believe me, I have taken full advantage of this.  But sometimes, I just don't want to indulge.  Sometimes, I just want to eat like a normal person, though other people seem to have a problem accepting this.

Take, for example, the cashier at the Yogiberry in the neighborhood.  Since it's nearby, it's quite easy for me to pop in for some fro-yo whenever I'm in the mood.  Yogiberry is sort of like a Pinkberry and Red Mango concept, but it's all self-serve.  You choose your yogurt flavor(s), and then complete it at two buffet-style toppings bars with whatever combination of fixings that your little heart desires. Finally, your cup is weighed at the register, and you are charged by the ounce. 

One day, I just wanted a little something to satisfy my sweet tooth, so I popped in for a little lychee yogurt with kiwi and strawberries sprinkled on top.  "Is that all?"  the cashier asked as I approached the register, raising his eyebrows with surprise.  Grrrrrrrr.

Waiters are the worst offenders.

A few friends and I were having lunch at a local dining establishment.  I ordered my favorite warmed goat cheese, spiced pecan, and dried cranberry salad, and enjoyed every last bite.  Our plates were cleared, and as one typically does, our waiter returned to offer us dessert.  Actually, I use the word "us" loosely--because the waiter, more accurately, offered me dessert.  He didn't even remotely acknowledge the rest of the table, pointedly looking directly at me as he made his case for the dessert menu.  I declined, shaking my head "No, thank you." 

"But we have strawberry shortcaaaaaaake," the waiter came back at me in a sing-song voice.  "And banana bread puddiiiiiiing."  Really, dude.  The big pregnant lady doesn't want dessert.  Get over it and move on. 

Sometimes it's even hard to get a cup of coffee without having normal portion sizes questioned.  About a month or so ago, I was so thrilled to learn of DECAF ESPRESSO!  I am a latte junkie, and nothing makes me happier than a pumpkin spice latte in the fall.  Although the decaf is not quite as good as the real thing, it is certainly a good stand-in until Bitty is born.  I do so love pumpkin spice lattes, but usually a tall (coffee-speak for small) is good enough for me. 

And so, that is what I ordered on a recent trip to Starbucks.  "A tall?  Are you sure you don't want a venti?"  the barista interrogated me about my drink choice. 

Yes, I'm sure.  And I want non-fat milk, too. 

"But you still want whipped cream, right?"

Well, of course.  Don't be silly.