Today I am shopping in Walmart with my friend Stephanie and accompanied by, of course, Emerson. I am standing with my very rotund belly, looking at the earrings, when from around the corner comes a short, round man. He is balding, has the remaining hair on his head cut in a buzz cut style, and has what looks to be the beginnings of handlebar mustache. "You're having a boy!" he quickly proclaims, as if in a hurry. Surprised at his sudden proclamation, I replied, "That's what a lot of people have told me." Then, after pausing for a moment, he says, "Well, I haven't been wrong in 15 years. I shop in this section of Walmart every day; I'm a gypsy. If you have a girl, find me, and I'll pay you $2,000." I ask, "How can you tell it's a boy?"He says, "It's your feet." (Which I have encased in my platform Volcom black sneakers.") "Um, thanks." says I. 1. My feet?! What the heck?2. A GYPSY?! Double what the heck!3. A gypsy that shops in the same section (the jewelry section?!) of Walmart every day? I thought gypsies were, like, nomads. Don't they travel around in brightly covered tents, with their fortune telling glass balls and flame-throwers?
4. Maybe I'll dress Atticus in a lot of pink and hang out in the jewelry section so I can pick up my $2,000.