HOW'S YOUR BABY?
When I was six weeks pregnant, shortly after we found out and looong before we told anyone—we didn’t even tell our families 'til a couple of weeks ago!—we were at Christopher’s dad’s surprise birthday party and this woman I’d never seen before came rushing up to me and said, very loudly and excited-ly, “MEGAN! HOW’S YOUR BABY!” and I just about died. Who WAS this woman? How did she KNOW? Was I showing ALREADY? I wasn’t even nauseous yet, what was the tell-tale sign? Or maybe she had some sort of superpower, like X-Ray vision, and could see the tiny kid in there swimming around. I looked at Christopher's dad, panicked he’d just found out he was going to be a grandfather from some random woman at a party, which isn’t cool AT ALL. It’s like breaking up with someone via text message. Or hearing that you’re fired over the photocopy machine. Or dumping your wife at a press conference (hi, Guiliani! How’s the family values?).
Turns out, this woman has a little Yorkie that she loves OH SO MUCH, and also she works with Christopher’s stepmom who has many photos of us and our dog on her desk. So the baby being referred to was not my top-secret human baby, but, rather, my dog, who, for the record, does not have pink toenails and ribbons on the top of his head like this woman’s Yorkie (I saw pictures, oh yes I did!) but is still our baby just the same because we are Those People, the ones who buy insanely expensive toys for their pet, and let him sleep under the covers, and explain things to him in complete English sentences (during which he cocks his head to the side and wags his tail) like, “Mojo, it was a bug that bit you on the neck. NOT the air. So you don’t have to be scared of the air, only of bugs, which will reduce the time you spend in fear by a serious percentage,” or “Mojo, we’re going out of town and Uncle Jeff is going to stay with you. Please be responsible and DO NOT eat the chips he gives you under the table,” or “Mojo, very soon a loud, wrinkled alien will be moving into the house and you’ll have to be patient while mommy and daddy figure out WHAT THE HELL THEY'RE DOING.”
Which should only take about eighteen years, right?
