Katie and I were standing in a queue yesterday, waiting to pay for something. The machine wasn't working, so we had time for a little chat. In front of us was a woman, maybe 35, who was starring and smiling at Katie's pancita. This conversation is absolutely typical of the type forced upon Katie has maybe once or twice a day.
Staring woman.
Six months, I said to her, pre-empting her question.
It's going to be a girl, the woman replied, with mystical confidence, rather trumping my forward thinking.
Interesting! Why do you think that? Katie replied, amazed at this woman's facility for gender prediction.
Oh, she said, continuing her charming tone, because you arms and your face are fat.
What? Obviously this was an incredulous What?, but our new friend interpreted this as a signal to define exactly What? she mean.
Fat. They're not thin (pointing at her own arms, just in case anything was lost in translation). They are fat. Chubby. Big smile, Good luck with everything, and off she went.
These people are hilarious.
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