Gleeful Gossip

The little old ladies in my congregation LOVE me. I could hear them start twittering the moment I walked in this week (not difficult, most of them wear hearing aids and their whispers are louder than most people's "indoor voices"). Some of them remembered my name, which made me happy.

They love me because I am great gossip fodder. I show up, sans Himself, obviously pregnant and announce that "my husband and I have just moved from the DC area." Of course, it takes awhile for the Ladies' hearing aids to kick in, which means they hear the "...I have just moved from the DC area" part.

You can almost feel the excitement as they try to discern if I am in my "delicate condition" with or without a husband. I figured this out very quickly when one asked, "So ... did you move here by yourself?," complete with nervous glances and gestures. Very much a la the kid in junior high who comes up to say "he said, she said, he said that he really likes you."

In speaking with them this week, I did a lot of waving around of my left hand. Problem is, I don't wear a wedding band, only my engagement ring. You wouldn't believe the number of questions I still get, 4.5 years after tying the knot, about when I'm going to get married. The traditionalists out there assume there is no way I wouldn't wear both, so it only feeds the fire, versus actually solving any of their curiosities. (For the record, I just never found a wedding band I liked that went with my engagement ring).

I could just picture such a conversation (*Disclaimer - the second part is just my "filling in the gaps" between the twitters with my own, vivid imagination, not anything real).

Old Lady 1: "Did she say she just moved here?"
Old Lady 2: "Yes, from DC"
Old Lady 1: "Just her?"
Old Lady 2: "It appears so. She's been by herself for two weeks now."

After speaking to me
Old Lady 1: "Well, she has an engagement ring. That's nice."
Old Lady 2: "Yes. I hate to see what the world is coming to. At least she looks like she's engaged."

At which point I can no longer conjure up any sort of conversation, because I've imagined myself into hysteria, laughing over the gleeful gossip for which I must be cause, since Himself is still firmly ensconced back in the DC area.

Of course, the "sans Husband" part is only one of the delights - the other is the fact that they are all at least 80+ and have apparently gotten over their generations' aversion to speaking of pregnancy in public. I am the only noticeably pregnant woman in the congregation. They are FULL of questions about Baby Girl, myself and how things are going - gleefully soaking in every detail I'm willing to share (which admittedly, isn't much).

A near fight broke out yesterday among the group of 4 or 5 octagenarians when I answered one question about my due date, the answer going unheard by one woman whose "hearing aids were acting up." Pained that she didn't hear the answer, she repeatedly asked it, causing the others to "shush" her (again, too quietly for her hearing aid), causing me to pause to figure out whether to answer her or the latest question, which led the women to continue asking more questions, leaving the woman with the hearing aid issue further behind in the dust and repeating herself (loudly) over and over. It was pure pandemonium - blue-haired hysteria. I had to keep from doubling over and laughing. To think I was interesting enough (okay, even counting the only half-correct information) to cause a near riot among the aged.

Himself reminded me, "Just wait 'til they find out you are working, aren't quitting even when Baby Girl comes, have been married for over four years and are approaching 30. THAT will really get them going."

I think he's right. This could mean months of delightful entertainment for the Little Old Ladies. Clearly I'm the most exciting thing that has happened in weeks. Hee hee.