I’m officially at the most obvious stage of pregnancy where random strangers strike up conversations about my unborn child. Which... seems weird, right? They don’t know me. Why are they suddenly interested in what I’m having and when he is due and whether he is our first? I mean, I understand they are being nice, but why do they care enough to ask? That is a lot of personal information about someone you’ve never seen before.
Oh well. I’m learning not to be weirded out. Especially because having that conversation with a Trader Joe’s cashier gets me flowers.
I’m not sure if every pregnant lady gets flowers, or only those tired-looking ones stopping in alone late on a Thursday night for cereal and avocados. But hey, I’ll gladly tell you “a boy, mid-December, our first” for free daisies.