Nevertheless, I get asked fairly routinely how far along I am. For all sorts of reasons my belly is round and cute and appears to be filled enticingly with baby. It's not. It's filled with pain. And so my mouth is filled with sassy rejoinder. Or, at least, I want it to be. Usually I mumble "Oh, uh, I'm not pregnant. Sorry."
I'm not sorry. I'm sorry you don't know that you never ask a woman how far along she is when she hasn't opened the conversation with, "I am pregnant. Do you want to know how far along I am?"
And so, below is a collection of replies, retorts, and rebukes leveled -- hypothetically or actually -- against such inquirers.
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