Just because I am pregnant does not mean my personal space no longer exists...

Or does it?

Just a couple weeks ago, when asked if anyone had touched my stomach yet, I said that "No, I'm pretty sure I give off a 'don't touch me' vibe." Mind you, there had been a little touching. One friend in particular, which honestly didn't bother me because a) she asked first and b) she has always been a touchy-feely person. No biggie.

Last week, however, I got poked. Yes, you read right. POKED. Like make a fist, extend pointed finger, jab into nearest pregnant persons stomach type of poke. And it was by a male customer at work. Mind you that he is a regular and knows my snippy demeanor, so I did not feel the need to regulate my response because I was at work. Here's how it went...

Customer: "Hey Lynette, how's the little guy doing? ::POKE TUMMY::

Me: Gives him very strange look. "Oh, he's fine (BEGIN TO POKE HIM BACK IN SHOULDERS)...and how are you?" ::CONTINUE TO POKE::

Customer: Pulls back and looks at me, confused.

Me: ::STILL POKING:: "What, you don't like to be poked? Neither do we!" ::MAKE DRAMATIC EXIT FROM CONVERSATION::

This week, three people have felt the insatiable need, the magnetism if you will, of THE TUMMY. Three people, at work, all of whom I kind of know. People I wouldn't even classify as acquaintances. UGH...you people drive me to drink. And since that is out of the question... I feel the need to instead, purchase one of these fine items:

UGH!