In which I run into my old friend with his baby and, after about ten
minutes of catching up, blurt out, "So how old is this little fella
now?" about his sweet gorgeous baby GIRL, Indiana. It's like asking
someone when their due-date is without knowing for sure they're
currently pregnant. You just obviously don't assume gender. Jeez. Even
Charlotte kicked me under the table.
Also, I'm at the office on a Saturday. What is wrong with me? Please
tell me to have a weekend. And if you'd like to share a story of a
faux pas you've made, that would be nice to me too. Thanks and love,
lovely lovely lovelies.