Granny Takes No Prisoners

Recently, I visited with my ninety year old Granny. It was the first time she had seen me in some months and there was definitely much more of me to be seen. At our last meeting I was still early on in my pregnancy. I looked as if I'd eaten a large lunch, not very pregnant at all. This time was a different story. I am now six months along and look as if I'd eaten a small hot dog stand, not just a large lunch.
We were enjoying watching Firstborn as he played with my aunt. During all this time my Granny complimented me on how good I looked and asked questions regarding the pregnancy. She deftly waited until my aunt took Firstborn outside to pick buttercups, and that's when she began the assault.
On outside appearances my granny looks like any ninety year old granny, but don't be fooled. She's a seasoned, war time general. She's lived long enough to learn the best tactile maneuvers, and she's not afraid to use them. Little did I realize that she had already been maneuvering her artillery into place in our prior conversation.
Granny: "You look good. You look like you've been eating well. And I see you're still out and about frequently. Is the baby giving you any problems? Hrphmph."
It all sounded so innocent to me as we were watching the antics of my aunt and son as they tickled one another with a feather duster. It's what she said next once we were alone, that set off the air raid sirens in my head.
Granny: "Don't you think you need to be in maternity clothing?"
Mommy: "Granny, this is maternity clothing."
Granny: "Hrphmph."
Oh no. There it was, the second Hrphmph! Just minutes before I had been lovingly rubbing my blissful belly as Granny had been speaking. I was caught up in the scene before me and not paying much attention to what she said. But quickly, I was jolted back to the battlefield that lay before me. I began running our previous conversation back through my head.
Granny: "You look good."
Translation: I see you've been performing your wifely duties.
Granny: "You look like you've been eating well."
Translation: Don't get too fat. You'll just have to lose all of that baby weight again, and we know how long it took you last time.
Granny: "And I see you're still out and about."
Translation: Don't you think you should be in confinement? You are after all, with child.
Granny: "Is the baby giving you much trouble?"
Translation: That poor child you're carryin' has to be miserable what with all the weight you've gained and you out gallavantin' about the countryside.
Granny: "Hrphmph."
Translation: I don't approve of this one bit.
Granny: "Don't you think you need to be in maternity clothing?"
Translation: You're in the family way. You should be wearing the appropriate tent like clothing, complete with Peter Pan collars.
Granny: "Hrphmph."
Translation: I really don't approve of this one bit. This is worse than I thought.
How had I missed it? I was a sitting duck. No, I was a sitting, pregnant duck with a giant bulls eye painted on my ever expanding belly. This was not going to be pretty. This lady was known for taking no prisoners. She left them in a pile of ashes and bones that had once been their self-esteem, strewn across the living room sofa.
It was time to hunker down. Firing back would have been in poor taste, after all, she was ninety. And her guilt game was far superior to even her war games. I would have to move quickly and carefully. I explained that not only what I was wearing was in fact, maternity clothing, but that it had been passed on to me from my younger sister. Ouch, sorry for throwing you under the bus like that dearest sister, but you know how the old bird operates. It's every man for himself.
I should have stopped there but I couldn't. My tongue marched on with prhases like, "this is how it's done these days" and "all the cool kids are doing it". She just sat there in silence with her left hand in a sort of fist under her chin and index finger covering her mouth. And just like that she had conquered victorious. With the entrance of my aunt and son her demeanor once again changed back into that of a jolly great-grandparent. I sat there on the living room sofa a shell of the once confident mommy to be.