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It amazes me to think that some folks still don’t have it in this day and age… Or mistake their comfort level with you for the ability to say anything to you and have it fly under the radar.

Some things just sound crass while others hold that crassness in delivery. My family has mastered sheer crass words with delivery to boot. And I find myself victim to it regularly. Usually uninvited. I can understand if I said “hey… Do I look fat to you?” or “can you see bags under my eyes ” then FREE REIGN on whatever the response is because I invited it and am braced for whatever response. But out of the blue…. Imagine if I was feeling good about myself. Comfortable in my own skin. And here you come with your tactless unsolicited crappiness. *smh*

Two weeks ago I thought I had it with the make up… The hair was working… I thought I was the shizzz. Here comes my co worker I bump into on the train. “Wow… You look tired.” Instant deflation. The wheels turned in my head to rework my original feeling about myself. But it felt impossible.

My favorite tactless comment delivered to me was by my uncle. If it was the Olympics of Tactlessness he would have gotten a 10 all around for delivery, execution and dismount. Tugging at the mush of flesh on the back of my arm, he speculated, “Your boyfriend must like fat girls.” Just like that. Plain as day as if he were remarking about something that wouldn’t normally get a reaction. “Hey the sidewalks are made of cement…. And I’m thinking that your man must like fat girls…” I swear my mouth hung open and my brain zeroed out. I almost didn’t respond. But then I did. “I’ve seen your wife… You must too.” Not quite as potent but at least I didn’t just sit there.

The latest instance of tactlessness was offered up by my brother. Walking thru the city yesterday we happened upon a sale for Pepperidge Farm cookies. 2 for $5. So… I pick up 2 Mint Milano cookies because they are my fave. And my brother begins the barrage:

1) condescendingly pats my “muffin top”
2) states that “it’s ok… you’re doing the fat and happy married thing”
3) states that he always imagined that this is how I’d look with “a bun in the oven…” now he can see what it’ll look like…

Felt like that scene in LOTR when Boramere took those three arrows to his chest. *thwack*

Getting dresses this morning was sheer hell. I wish I could’ve stayed home.




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