Why, in the fucking hell, was I standing here in this dress shop right now? Why, in the goddamn fucking hell, did I let EZ bring me here? Oh, wait, I know why. Because I'm getting married.
Getting married means that I need to have a fucking wedding dress. Dammit Kyle! I made him promise that I never had to be womanhandled ever again. Now, here I was with two different seamstresses working away at the hem of the dress.
"We will have to take a look at it again right before the wedding. You say she's two and a half months pregnant now, but there could be a lot of change by the time that the wedding actually gets here. I have accounted for the growing baby belly but we won't know the full extent of it until then."
"Are you saying I will be fat?" I glared at the woman who was sewing the front seam of the skirt.
"No dear, it won't be fat; it will be a baby. And it will be beautiful."