I ran into my neighbor, Roseanne, yesterday and told her we're expecting. Like most people, she asked how far along I am. I said, "17 weeks."
She looked down at my stomach (which is not exactly bulging, especially since I had a loose T-shirt on) and asked, "Seventeen weeks?! What are you having...a mouse?"
This is one of those exchanges that, if I think of it only in a cartoony sense, it makes me chuckle.
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