A few weeks ago, my family came to visit. The first night at dinner, my mom kept looking at my belly "knowingly" and finally asked me if I was pregnant. I am not. SOMEONE BRING ME SOME TEQUILA RIGHT NOW SO I CAN SHOW HOW NOT PREGNANT I AM. Throughout the weekend, she asked me some thinly veiled questions about my "health habits", trying to figure out where things must have gone awry for me to look like this. Then came Mother's Day. I called her and she told me it was nice to visit San Francisco and that Curtis looked so slim and in better shape than ever . Kudos to him. It took all my willpower to not throw my phone through the window. When I hung up, I just sobbed. I am not sharing this to malign my mom. She comes from a different culture where comments about weight are not unusual. Years ago, I told her these remarks hurt my feelings, and her response was, "if I don't tell you, who will?". (Umm... mainstream media? My mirror?) Somewhere deep ...