The B Word

I’ve been thinking a lot about babies lately. Not because I’m having one. And not because I’m remotely ready to have one. But everyone else in the entire world, i.e. my entire Facebook news feed  seems to be having them, to which I say, “Wonderful!” and “Awesome-o!” And I mean it gal-pals. If you will be/have/or are currently in the process of hossing a tiny human out of your hoo-hah, I congratulate, commend, and respect the shit out of you.

Actually, let me amend that. If you are currently in the process of hossing a tiny human out of your hoo-hah, allow me to say how flattering I am that you chose this little blog as your distraction so that you can pretend your husband/wife/partner isn’t there saying annoying and not-at-all-helpful things to you and get on with your deep breathing already. (I’ve never been in labor, but I watched a lot of Lifetime television one summer. I know how it goes.) I’m taking it as a compliment. You can thank me later. Just don’t send me the placenta for my garden. I don’t have one. A garden that is. Or a placenta for that matter.  If you’re really thankful, however, you can absolutely feel free to name your baby after me instead of your husband/wife/partner’s deceased great-aunt Ophelia. Then your baby can thank me. But the placenta rule still stands.

I’m at a really interesting point in my life, one that I hadn’t noticed until I got married. You see, for those of you who haven’t gotten married yet, let me tell you – once that ring is on your finger and you’re a Mrs. WhateverYouChooseToBeCalled, suddenly your uterus becomes subject to the public record. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is absolutely fascinated with it. Strangers in Wal-Mart will see your wedding ring, ask you how long you’ve been married, and then immediately launch into the line of questions about your lady bits. “Are you having kids?” “When do you want to have your first baby?” “Are you pregnant now?” 
Or, if you are in particularly backwoods parts of the country, i.e. where I live, you’ll get, “You’ve been married 6 months you said? Well what the hell are you waiting for? Stop practicing and go on and make a baby already!”
I almost threw up all over Carter in that Harris Teeter. And all over the clementines, too. But I didn’t because I am, if nothing else, in control of my gag reflex.

That sounded really bad. But I’m not going to try to explain it because I know myself and I will only make it worse. So, pretend that I am successfully explaining myself to you and how that was not at all meant to sound bad. Be creative. But remember – in this visual of yours, I’m doing incredibly well and not digging a hole to anywhere. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Ok. Now that that’s done, let me tell you a little story. It’s not a story, really, so much as it is an experience I had in Target. Carter and I have a couple/friends who recently had a baby. And she is precious. But this took place while she was still in that beautiful blonde oven of her mama’s. I was in the baby section at Target looking for a gift for the baby shower, which, come to think of it, is still in my living room. (Baby L, I promise I will bring you your present and I’m sorry I’m such a terrible and forgetful friend to your parents. You’re such a gracious and forgiving baby that I just know you’ll understand. Kisses!) Something otherworldly came over me. I was holding the tiny baby socks and giggling over the little onesies embroidered with baby monkeys and baby elephants and cute sayings about how grandparents are cooler than parents. As I stood there, wondering to myself if there was anything in the world cuter than a baby sock, a woman approached me, clearly very expectant, and smiled. She was radiant with pregnancy, absolutely glowing, it seemed. 

WOMAN: They’re adorable, aren’t they? The socks are always my favorite part of buying the outfit. 
They’re the cutest things ever.

ME: Yes they are. 

And I thought that we were just sharing something womanly: she, the vessel for a growing life, and me, a person who cannot keep an orchid alive currently but one day hopes to have children. I thought that we were bonding over the simplicity of baby socks and the joy that they represent. But I guess, then, that I shouldn’t have been surprised by what happened next.

(And no, for you sensationalists, her water did not break all over my boots.)

She reached out, touched my stomach, and said:

WOMAN: So when are you due? You look like your 3, 4 months along.

ME: Oh, no. No, no, no, no. I’m not pregnant.

WOMAN: Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. Please – I am so sorry.

ME: No, it’s fine. I’m happy about it. I’m not pregnant. I’m just chunky. No baby here! Just a pioneer metabolism and some tacos.

She scooted away as fast as that baby would let her. I realized a few things in that moment:

1.       The time for excuses was past. The time of Weight Watchers had come. (Did that sounds as Lord of the Rings-y when you read it as it did when I typed it?)

2.       People have no boundaries where babies and their production is concerned. They simply don’t exist.

Maybe it’s an anthropological phenomenon, a remnant from our hunter/gatherer days when we all lived together in large family groups and basically raised each other’s children, schtupped in the same animal husk dwelling, and were witness to every single moment of one another’s lives. We have evolved to no longer need our appendix, but we ain’t evolved so far that the uterus is no longer a community affair. Because it totally is whether we like it or not. (Don’t believe me? Check out what your politicians are most concerned with. I’ll give you a hint. It’s yours and it rhymes with shmashmina.) 

Is it such a bad thing? I’m not sure.

Is it so wrong that complete strangers are so enamored and overjoyed by the thoughts of new life that they will literally break all comfort zones and social norms regarding appropriate personal space to ask you about your plans to have children? Is it so terrible that people fixate on asking you,to the point that you almost want to pull a Frank from 30 Rock and make a trucker hat that says, “I’m not having kids for 40 years. So don’t ask.” And then to continue it onto a t-shirt that says, “What? You think that when I’m 65 I’ll be too old to have a baby? Poppycock. But it’s none of your damned business anyways.” (Because all of that is way too long to put on a trucker hat, no matter how big a head you may have.)

Again, I’m not sure. Is it a bad thing for me? It’s inconvenient and often embarrassing, but these people mean me no ill will. At worst, they are expecting me to be brimming with an excitement matching their own at the prospect of children. And their enthusiasm albeit wildly inappropriate, is appreciated, even though it’s difficult for me not to run away quickly as my first reaction.

But what about my friends who don’t want kids? What about the hundreds of thousands of women who have taken authority over their reproduction and said, “Hell no! I won’t go!”? I respect them. In fact, I respect my friends who have firmly chosen not to have children more than I respect some of my friends who have wandered aimlessly into having them. (Again – some, not all.) It’s a difficult choice and one which, I’m sure, can be hard to defend at times. Like when the cashier at Wal-Mart asks you when you’re going to start having kids and you say, in a matter of speaking, “No babies coming out of this vagina, ma’am. I’m forgoing the whole mess.”

Odds are that she’ll continue bagging your groceries and not speak another word of it. Odds are. But there are always exceptions. And what about then? What about when your wishes for your body conflict with the wishes society has for your body? I can’t answer that.

Maybe it’s a generational thing, I’m not sure. I’ve never assumed that someone is having children, but I may be in the minority there. Again, I just don’t know.

I wasn’t aware of this public fascination with my fallopian tubes until I got married. I was warned of it, sure, by other childless, married people, but I never believed them. But here I am, 5 months married, and still I carry on, childless and more than happy about the fact, brushing off the questions with as much grace as is practical. But what I am slowly becoming aware of now, is how this lack of children places me within the Blogosphere.

I’m in an odd space. I love reading “Mommy Blogs,” but only the good ones, both for their fierce honesty and their pluck. There is a lot of pluck. And often a lot of utterances that rhyme with pluck. But that’s another story. I read these blogs written by amazing women, all going their own way via Attachment Parenting, Tiger Mothering, or, and this is how I was raised, “Are you bleeding from your head? Are you dying? No? Then walk it off, sugar!” Parenting. 

I read these blogs and realize a couple of things. First, I am nowhere near ready to be a mother. Maybe it’s because I’m still too selfish. Maybe it’s because I still have to buy generic dish soap. But either way, we’re not there yet. Second, these blogs make me realize just how odd I really am, even if I’m not alone.

Everyone’s got a schtik. Chris, at Life Your Way!, writes a humor blog, and a damned good one, but she also nurtures to a growing empire of followers suffering with chronic illnesses like her own, readers who come to her every day for commonality and a place to air their grievances about their “glitches.” I read Mommy Blogs, Craft Blogs, shit, I just started a Food Blog. But Nested remains this awkward little place that, I think, has yet to decide what it wants to be when it grows up. And is there anything wrong with that?

When I do have kids, will Nested become a Mommy Blog? Or will I be able to do what Bev and Amy and akl and Jenn have done – to blog about both my children and myself? It’s an interesting thought, readers, and one that has been creeping into my mind with increasing regularity now that sperm has apparently been dumped willy-nilly into all the public water sources. And I mean that, kittens – literally 4 out of every 10 people I know are pregnant or just got done being pregnant.

That’s right: e’erybody’s pregnant. I’m ecstatic for them, but I’m just not there. Maybe Nested and I are growing up together and maybe it doesn’t matter when we have kids or if a book comes out of this or if I never ever become a respectable Mommy Blogger and always stick to the schtik that I know – which seems to be pointing out horribly uncomfortable and oft embarrassing aspects of my life that make you, my dear readers, thankful that you don’t dream of giving birth to baby penguins or debate with your husbands the syntax surrounding the introduction to Lord of the Rings and whether Tolkien got it “perfect” or not.


So yes, I’ve been thinking a lot about babies, not because I’m in the least bit ready to hoss a tiny human out of my hoo-hah, but because I’m in the holding pattern. I’m in that transitional phase in between “F*ck no, I ain’t havin’ no babies for a really long time” and “It’s not gonna be for a while, but I’ll be damned if those baby socks aren’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” It’s transitional and it’s not going to last forever so I’m enjoying it. My blog and I both are.

Maybe it’s because I’m ok with this holding pattern that I’m learning to not become enraged when a random stranger asked me about my reproductive plans. Sure, it’s annoying as hell, but is it wrong that they ask? Probably. But I can’t hold them to standards to which I don’t hold myself, a person who has been described on multiple occasions as “intrusively curious.” I may not ask you about your vagina and it’s produce, but I sure as hell will ask you why you put a herringbone vest on your cat and “Don’t you know that he has claws and will probably seek revenge for that by murdering you in your sleep and then slipping out the doggie door before the cops can get there?” Because I care!

I’ll figure it out, I’m sure.  Maybe I’ll have kids. And maybe I won’t. There are thousands of tiny steps between now and then and I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I’m enjoying the walk, if you will, and will, perhaps, begin to fight fire with fire.

STRANGER: So, when are you and your husband going to start a family?

ME: I don’t know. Maybe when I’m 50. (Which is, what I thought as a young child, to be the age at which one had a child.) Or maybe when my blog gets 20,000 followers. Or when my husband wins the lottery and/or Nobel Prize for Ethical Leadership. Or invents one if there isn’t such a thing already. Or when my doctor tells me that if I wait any longer my uterus will literally petrify and fall out for me to keep in a little glass jar on my nightstand. Have a nice day!

And y’all have a nice day, too. Happy Friday. 

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  1. I cannot believe someone touched your stomach! Arrg! I’ve been badgered and harassed about having babies since before I even got married and I find this trend of asking when you’re having babies completely ridiculous. Why is my reproductive system any of your business?

  2. The number of times I danced out of the way of randomers hands reaching for my little humans in transit. I was a very protective mummy to be!! Your experience just brought all that back 🙂

    As for where your blog stands or will stand, just wing it. We don’t have to pigeon hole everything all the time. I am sure when motherhood comes to you the whole experience will just add to your bank of funny stories to tell us! As for me, my blog is the time I eekk out of motherhood and family life that is just for me, yeah I mention them occasionally but for the most part I like to ‘virtually’ get some peace 😉

    Great post as always!!

  3. It seems nowadays women seem to mistake each other for pregnant more and more. Either this never happened back in the old days, or I’m just becoming more aware of it as I get older. I don’t get the question often, I have to say, not by strangers anyway. I can’t remember getting it at all. Maybe it’s not a “Dutch” thing to do to ask a stranger about her (assumed) pregnancy; maybe the Dutch are more reserved in that manner. (We are a stubborn people and we generally don’t like others meddling in our affairs.) Sometimes my family or Tim’s family drops a hint or a word or a joke, but that’s about it and it doesn’t bother me much.

    As for myself, I don’t really know where I stand on children. Like you, I keep up with a couple of mommy blogs and when I read it I just think how lovely it would be to have a child. Then I think of my life and who I am and where I am, and I get scared shitless. Either I’m not ready or I’m just not the mommy type. Then again, don’t they say you’re never ready until the baby is actually there?

    And as for my blog, we can shake hands, Katie Pilkington. I see mommy blogs, craft blogs, news blogs, review blogs, and all these other blogs that have some sort of theme or direction. Then I look at mine, and I’m like: “Where am I going with this?” Nowhere, I think. I sometimes try to spin it in a certain direction but I always end up posting stuff that catch my attention or otherwise occupy my mind. It always becomes a mishmash of funny pictures, cool videos, posts about my life, books, movies, random thoughts and now recipes too. So, I decided: why not own it for what it is? And I labeled it “Randomness”. Dunno if it works but it’s true as a cow. And I’ll see where it goes from there.

    Oh, and hey, that woman who touched your stomach? WAY OUT OF LINE!!!!

    • I think it’s definitely an American thing. I’m not sure, but I definitely have never seen anyone in my European travels behaving thusly.

      But I think it’s ok that our blogs are somewhat random. It’s certainly not a bad thing, I’ve recently been told. So let’s celebrate it!

      And yes. WAAAAAAAY out of line.

  4. we don’t touch each other in canada. i’ll tell you one thing, if you have kids, the little bastards never leave you alone. and stop the crazy talk, your blog rocks! xxx

    • Haha, maybe I need to move to Canada. This is the thing I have heard about children. Better wait for a while, I think. And thank you for the compliment, my dear Bev. It’s so very sweet because I think your blog rocks as well! xxx

  5. First, thank you for the shout-out sweetie!
    Now, let’s get down to business…one is NEVER ready to be a parent. NE-VER! (I wish I had a double-caps button.) If people tell you any different, they lie like dogs.
    And judging by your writing and the conversations we’ve had, if you’re waiting until you feel like a full-fleged grown-up? PFFT! Forget it. Never gonna happen. Embrace your inner child and just roll with it. I think big kids make awesome mommies becasue we never forget what it’s like to be a kid.
    And no matter how old you are or how many offspring you’ve popped out, you’re right…the questions don’t change. My four are from a previous marriage. I was 30 when hubby and I married. At the RECEPTION three of his female relatives (including his MOM!) aproached me to ask when we were gonna start popping out baby Deans. (Umm…Baby Factory closed for business due to it’s lack of respect fot the limiting capacities of birth control. Sorry!)
    So…find your best smart-assed comment meant to leave them speechless and enjoy the hubby-and-me time. Then, one day when you’re perfectly NOT ready, you’ll find yourself in labor ordering the Nurse to push it back in becasue you changed your mind. *grin*

    • Oh, crap, I wrote my comment before I read this. Chris Dean, you have me beat! I thought it was insane that ONE person asked me at the reception. THREE??? Too funny.

    • I wholeheartedly concur with you Chris!! 🙂 We’re never ready even when we think we are, but it’s a fun ride. And being a big kid is the best part!

    • This is what I hear! (I’m just going to respond to all of you, since this is now a conversation!) I’m not venturing down the kids avenue yet. I adore them and love being around my friend’s babies, but we’re just not ready yet. And I’m ok with that. It seems to be the rest of the public that is not, haha. But you made me smile, Chris, with that last bit – Carter will be having an absolute anxiety attack and I’ll be screaming at the nurse something to the effect that I can’t have a baby until I’ve had my morning cofee. Or something equally ridiculous. It’s how I roll. I can see it now…. haha!

      But I think we’re pretty big kids at heart and don’t ever plan to change! So all advice being met thus far! Thanks ladies! 🙂

  6. I am only 20 but I am not exaggerating when I say almost EVERYONE from my high school in the past 2 years after we have graduated have been getting pregnant and married (and sometimes divorced) some are even on their second kid! I feel like having kids at a very young age is become a lot more common again. For a long time parent went after their career or personal lives before settling down, like a lot of my friends parents are in their 60’s already. But now everyone is rushing everything. I hate to say it, but could it really be subliminally because of teen mom? Probably not, but you know someone out there is saying it! Also Texas, (where I live) is 2nd in the nation for teen pregnancies and 1st for repeat teen pregnancies, something must be in the water!

    • I feel like that, too, sometimes. Our 10 year reunion will be very interesting, I think! I think the Teen Mom theory is interesting. I think the original premise of the show was great – to show teenagers how difficult it is to have and raise a baby in high school. But then it turned into a “Reall Housewives” kind of deal and each mom gets $350,000 per season, I’m told. It doesn’t really teach any lesson now, other than “If you get pregnant at 16, you may wind up on MTV.” Because in the show, or what I’ve seen of it, there are never any consequences for the young women, which is not the case in the real world. I dunno. But maybe there is something in the water….

  7. Love this! You know how women (and some men) talk about, “oh that clock is ticking,” or “we need to beat the clock.” I never had a clock. I wouldn’t know a clock ticking sound if it hit me in the head. No clock. No ticking. No apologies. Do I like children? Sure, with a little ranch dressing on the side. (kidding. sort of. no, really: KIDDING!) As a lady minister, people are fascinated about my timeline for my own procreation. I assure the inquirer(s) that I LOVE my nephews and niece. They are perfect. I couldn’t even try to have kids because they, the nephews and niece are so perfect that it’d be a moot point. The most curious comment, however, was from a young boy who wanted to know if I had children. “No, I don’t,” I told him. “But I AM someone’s child and that’s just about right for me.” He looked so sad, patted my arm, and said, “Don’t worry. You may still have children. I hope you do.” It was awfully sweet. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had the Mothership removed a few years ago.
    At any rate, Kate, when you and Carter have, don’t have, spring forth, adopt, day dream, buy diapers, teach a 16 year old how to drive, or remain as the coolest Aunt and Uncle, or Godparents ever, you will be AWESOME!!!!! From my particular point of view, having worked with kids, I see a few crucial things that kids need in their nearby adults: a tremendous sense of love, a tremendous sense of love for the other, a raging sense of humor, flexibility, honesty, dependability, and a generous spirit with a healthy sense of self. You and Carter are all of that and more.
    Have or do not have. That’s up to you. But first be your amazing selves. And thank you for THAT!!

    • You will be an amazing Aunt Kristen to my future kids! I just know it! 🙂 And I respect the hell out of you! I couldn’t agree more with that you said about the things which are needed by children in their immediate adults. And thank you for the compliment! 🙂

      You are wonderful and I don’t know where we’d be without you. 🙂 xxxx

  8. Babydoll, I feel your pain. Husband and I privately bet on when we believed people would start asking once we were wed (my mom doesn’t count; she’s been after me for grandchildren since I started my womanly courses), and we both lost, because neither of us could believe when it happened: in our receiving line. Like, five seconds after the wedding.

    Some people genuinely are interested and some are just making conversation. And some are assholes. My response used to be, “Oh, I’m planning to foal instead.” (Big bright smile!) That shut ’em up. Feel free to borrow it if you like it.

    We were so ambivalent about having a second, kind of adopting a “let’s just see what happens attitude,” until it hit me: No couple should have a kid until they are convinced with all their heart and all your soul that they want to, because it will require all their heart and all their soul. That’s what I believe.

    *Of course* you think baby sox are cute! You know what else is cute? Baby elephants! It doesn’t meant that you want either one of them in your house.

    Hmm, I fear this is sounding like a lecture, and I just meant it to be a supportive note. My hope is that you will thoroughly enjoy your shiny clean brand-new marriage for as long as you want to enjoy your wonderful two-ness, and not let any of the jerks get you down. That is my loving wish for you.

    • I got a question there, too! And then 2 at the reception! I LOVE your foaling response! Brilliance!

      And I do love baby elephants. They’re my favorite animal, you know. But I can neither afford to feed one nor have the time to give to one right now. The same stands for baby humans as well.

      It didn’t at all sound like a lecture! It was wonderful advice from a knowledgeable friend! And I thank you for it! 🙂

  9. Kate, my dear Kate! Thank you for the shout-out. I’m happy that you continue to read me and my silly little stories. Choosy Kates choose Jen. haha! Okay, I’m tired and a tad loopy.

    I’ve witnessed the “how far along are you?” question twice with two different friends. I cringed as they squared their shoulders, stood tall and said, “I’m not pregnant.” It was awful for me to watch and definitely more than offensive to them. Why do people still think it’s okay to do this?

    I highly doubt that you look prego, but I’ll tell you that most women don’t look prego until about 6 months or so. (unless you’re toothpick skinny and giraffe like-damn VS models) At around 3 months, you’ll still be in that questionable state where some days your baby bump will look more pronounced and other days it will look like a beer gut. Press on! This is all for future reference IN CASE you decide to join the mothership.

    I also have another friend who decided kids were just not for her. It surprised me when she told me because she is absolutely amazing with my oldest, but to each their own. I completely respect the women that decide to go the childless route. And I’m sure it’s a really hard road to traverse at first.

    Could you believe that even after my second, I still get the “When are you having another?” question! Isn’t two enough?

    As far as your blog and the place it is in-I love it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t fit into a particular box. You write well, you’re funny and honest and kind. That goes a long way. 🙂

    • You are most welcome! And I think your blog is wonderful. Choosy Kates do, indeed, choose Jen!

      I’m not sure why people think it’s ok to do this. And I don’t look pregnant. I’m not as svelte as I used to be, but I definitely do not look pregnant. But thanks for the beer gut v. baby belly reference guide, haha – it made me laugh but was highly informative 🙂

      And two is plenty – if it’s plenty for you! Carter has it in his head that once we start having them that we’ll be having 5. I told him that 3 is my ABSOLUTE maximum and that 2 is preferable. He’s free to go find some other lady parts to get the other 2 or 3, but then I will be free to take all of his things and money, haha.

      And thank you for the blog compliment – I value your opinion and you’re too sweet. 🙂

  10. ugh, I hated the questions about babies. If you wait long enough, you may get to the point where people stop asking because they either think you’ve either chosen not to have children, or you’re having trouble getting pregnant. After a while, i just responded with “someday, but not today.” Try not to let it get under your skin.

    I can tell you that there is never a good time. Only you and Carter will be able to decide, together, when the chaos of pregnancy and children will be more positive than negative. The Man and I were discussing it in the end of summer of 2010, and a few weeks later, we found ourselves with only one income. The next year, The Man was a full time student, I was working full time, we were still in the house we said we’d be out of by then, and we were still buying (and still do buy) generic dish soap! But we both just figured, why not. BEST.DECISION.EVER.

    As for the blog, you’ll write what you live, just like you always have. Now, you tell funny stories about your mom, your sister, your Dad, your friends, Carter, and Lola! you’ll just have another subject to write funny stories about. But I sincerly do appreciate that you see that I write about me on my blog, not just Vivian. It’s a hard balance, since I feel like most of my thoughts are focused on her, but I’ve been trying to remember that I am me, not just The Man’s wife, or Vivian’s Mom, or So and so’s lawyer.

    • I’m trying very hard not to let it get under my skin. I’m never bothered when certain family members ask casually, because in a lot of ways they have a vested interest. Like over Christmas, Carter’s mom and grandmother both asked when we thought we wanted to have a family, but they were also more than supportive when we said, “Not for a few years.” And I don’t mind that.

      I’ve heard that there’s never a good time, but your story is also very comforting. It reminds me of my parents. When they had me, my dad was in law school and my mom was working as a secretary. I was born 3 weeks before my dad sat for the Bar exam, but all the late-night feedings gave him extra study time and he passed on his first attempt. But it was chaotic, I’m sure.

      I ADORE your blog. It has a beautiful blend of the members of your family. You post about Vivian, but it seems to be mostly in pictures, which are absolutely lovely and beautiful and I live vicariously through them. …if that’s not creepy. I don’t mean it to be creepy. But you also write about yourself and The Man and your life and marriage and I adore every post. Truly. I’m sure it is very hard to balance, but I think you’re doing an amazing job. 🙂

  11. As always you made me laugh…out loud mind you! I found family members were the worst about worrying about exactly when someone would be marching out of my vagina, as if it was anyone’s business but mine and my husband’s. Geez, you have proved people sure have a lot of balls and are nosy! LOL

    You my friend, have plenty of time. I waited 3 years to have my first…and 5 years after that one and I am done. A girl and boy later I have made my contribution to the population and am done on that note.


    • Thank you, Kathy! I’m so glad! Some of my family members have been more intrusive than others. I never really mind when our mothers have asked, because it’s only happened twice and they’re very supportive. But the great-aunts on the other hand, well, they’re somewhat more aggressive. Nosy is right!

      I think waiting is a good thing, or at least it’s a good thing for Carter and me. We’re not ready and we’re enjoying just being married for now. 🙂

  12. Six months after I had my 3rd child, I was patted on the belly by an acquaintance and asked when I was due. I smiled sweetly and said, “Nope, not pregnant. In fact, no more babies ever. We’ve just had my husband neutered.” (Which we had, though he prefers not to call it that). Conversation ended right there. (In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen that woman around since. meh.)

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