Today, after two and a half years in Hamburg, I realized that I heard a car honk its horn and didn’t immediately assume that I had inadvertently done something wrong. Hurrah, assimilation! Maybe that’s why I look so happy:
But wait, there’s more!
Now that I see what the postman, the baker, the neighbors, the person standing next to me on the bus, the lady at the flower shop, the construction worker across the street, and Bruno-from-Bruno’s-cheese-shop can see, I realize why they are all compelled to comment on how much babies I have right now. Frida in her loud, cute, super-social little-big-girl 13-month-old stage PLUS nigh on 3 kilos of inner child. Yup, that’s a lot of kinder. Tack on a puffy winter maternity jacket, and you can imagine why the lady at the Chinese restaurant today asked about twins (my response, thought of only just now: ‘No, Frida was born a year ago and the next one isn’t due for another seven weeks. They’re not twins.’)
Seven more weeks of gestational growth. Wish me luck.