Ladybellies are Public Property

I began reading a much-lauded book the other night, The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs, when my ladybrain was confronted with the obvious notion that pregnant women's bellies are open to the public for rubbing, like statues of mascots at any given state school.

Give me luck, testudo.

But regardless of Jacobs' likening strangers touching pregnant women's bellies to petting a dog in the seventh line of the fucking book (is that a record?), I won't be rubbing any such thing, for good luck or anything else. I would expect some pepper spray in the face, and I will surely do the same if a stranger's hands start reaching for my tummy.

I've never allowed my facial hair to grow before, and it's been an odd and enlightening experience. I've been inducted into a secret fraternity of bearded guys--we nod at each other as we pass on the street, giving a knowing quarter smile. Strangers have come up to me and petted my beard, like it's a Labrador retriever puppy or a pregnant woman's belly.

Introduction, The Year of Living Biblically

Would I be surprised to see sexism in the Bible, considering it was written solely by men? Absolutely not. But this research project into the "good book" will probably sit on my shelf forevermore because of this ridiculous implication. My ladybrain doensn't know any better than to avoid media that set this kind of tone on the opening page. I hate to think where he goes with "be fruitful and multiply."