It's official: Pregnancy is now my most fascinating and distinguishing attribute, as confirmed by (only some of the) various pregnancy-related comments from library patrons in the last two days :
"You didn't have your baby yet?" - mother of two, with mild astonishment. When I replied that I was only 6 months pregnant, she responded, with moderate astonishment, "Oh, really?"
"Hi, preggo." - twenty-something guy, who very soon after apologized and said he was just "playing."
"When's your due date? [....] I only gained five pounds!" - pregnant woman who said her due date was the following day, but appeared to be at the same stage of pregnancy as I, and then completely depressed me when I commented about how small she looked.
"Are you having a baby? My mom already had me!" - kindergarten student, while touching the top of his head with a pointer finger. He was on a school trip with his class, and I'd just read the little ones some picture books. And, yes, he was very cute.
"Are you having a girl?" - fifth-grade student, also on a school trip with her class, rather excitedly. She seemed rather disappointed when I told her it was a boy. And, yes, she was also cute.
"When's your baby due?" "How far along are you?" "Do you know what you're having yet?" "Congratulations!" - innumerable patrons, young and old, male and female, every race and nationality, every disposition, from a tart elderly woman to a young guy who spends most of his time trying to look at porn on the public PCs when he doesn't think we'll notice. One of my favorites so far: a man last week excitedly showed me photos of his four-month-old daughter, claimed that postpartum is tougher on husbands than pregnancy (surprise, surprise, and boo-hoo) and correctly guessed that, at six months' gestation, we were still wondering what the heck to do with the baby's room.
Only 99ish (or 98ish, depending on which baby counter you prefer) days to go...