On the plane home on a solo trip to Michigan, I sat next to a very lovely woman, Lisa, and her three-year-old.
We chatted for a minute or two--she was one of those happy gregarious people that makes it easy to carry on small talk for the duration of a flight--and then she pointed to my belly. "When are you due?"
"Oh, Novemberish," I said.
She turned to her daughter. "See, Chloe? She's got a baby in her belly."
Her daughter looked at my midriff, then up at her mom, her eyes wide.
"She's going to have a little baby." Lisa said. "Just like you were in my belly once."
Then Lisa pointed at her chest. Well, actually, at her nipples. "And she's going to have titty milk, Chloe! Just like mama did!" Then she pointed at my chest. "Lots of titty milk for her baby!"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Because really, after that, what could I say?