Everybody remembers the sticky kid from growing up. You didn’t want to be the sticky kid. You know, the little muddy-faced urchin with streaks of dirt on their face, juice-box trail down their arms, grass stained pants, chips trailed down their shirt, chocolate bar melted on to their hands and a little schmeer on their face.
Nobody likes the sticky kid. Eww, don’t touch me with your 3 Musketeers paws!
Tonight we went out to dinner with some friends and I realized that being pregnant makes you the grown-up version of a sticky kid.
I have enchilada sauce all over the front of me. Tiny chip bits and Spanish rice somehow made it on the ledge between my belly and my bra. I missed my mouth several times with the water glass.
When you’re pregnant, things stick out further than they used to and catch any number of food particulate.
Wear dark colors and avoid salsa.
This too shall pass.