Ever since Dane and I got engaged, some people have taken it upon themselves to ask about personal things as though it's no biggie. Most of the time it isn't, to be honest. But really, if I meet you randomly on the street, chances are I'm not ready to share my inner most thoughts and beliefs. (Disclaimer: I realize I have a blog, and this basically means other people who I don't know or don't know well get to read about my life. But, it's what I put out there, and they aren't asking these things of me. Plus, I love my blogger homies.)
So for example, this past weekend we went to the mall. We just can't help ourselves, so we headed to the pet store. I saw the cutest cockapoo puppy. He was white and I couldn't help but want to play with him because I had the most loyal and lovable cockapoo growing up. We go to the little area where you can play with the puppies, and this woman in the little play area next to us looks over and says "Oh, this is the perfect practice for kids!" and before she leaves says "Good luck you two!" and winks at us. OK, so first, BARF. Secondly, I don't know you and you probably shouldn't assume my future goals. What if Dane was my brother and not my fiance? (Ew, that's gross. I'm kind of sorry I even thought of that.) What if I hate children? What if I was born without an ovary or something?
I'm not saying I never want children. I totally want a kid that I can laugh with like this one:
I can't watch that without cracking up. His laugh is AMAZING. In fact I'm going to watch it again right now....
OK, back. Next question I constantly get is: "Are you going to take his name?". I don't mind talking about this, but it's really a personal decision (in case you were wondering, I'm hyphenating, which means I'm going to have the longest last name ever). But if I don't know you I don't want to talk about the reasons for taking your husband's last name. You aren't going to change my mind. Leave us alone.
My sister told me about all the questions she got while she was pregnant. She pretty much had a script in her head that went like this: "I'm _______ months along. June 10. It's a girl. I haven't picked a name yet. My first. Yes, I'm excited." I didn't realize how annoying that must have been, but now I'm starting to get it. Granted no one has tried to grab my stomach yet. She was a serious trooper.
I vow not to ask uncomfortably personal questions of those whom I barely know, or don't know at all. Unless I've had a martini, or two. But then you can ask me one back. Promise.