I remember that I was carrying my infant daughter, wrapped tightly to me as I wandered through a church bazaar when a voice said, “What a beautiful baby!”
I thought so, of course, but it was nice to hear it from a stranger, so I turned and thanked the person behind the voice. I don’t remember what she looked like, but I want to judge her, in retrospect – in my mind, her perfectly coiffed, single-hue dye job was oversprayed, her skin showed the damage from too many tanning booths and she wore too much expensive, cloying cologne – but I really don’t know. She looked into my baby’s beautiful eyes and returned her bright, cheerful smile – and then looked at me and said “You’re going to keep her thin and pretty, right?”
