Today we spent a couple hours over at our friend’s house babysitting for her four kids. We kicked the soccer ball around, played a card game, and I left to go back home. Kim is still over there doing a girls movie night.

So I’m home, and since I’ll be by myself for a little while I think I’ll get a little ice creme. Yep, that sounds good. I hop on the motorbike and drive down the road to a little convenience store. As I enter I’m immediately greeted by the owner- a older woman sitting on a stool supervising the action (or does she just have nothing better to do?). I head to the freezer, grab a tub of choco-chip ice creme (the good stuff, mind you), and head to the checkout line. The owner strikes up a conversation with me, ‘Ohh, ngidam Kim ya?”, in the local language. I think she’s asking if Kim is babysitting now. This is a fair assumption because usually everybody in our neighborhood knows EVERYTHING we are doing at all times. So I say yes, Kim is babysitting. But not just Kim! Going a little further I tell her I was ‘babysitting’ too. Awkward laugh. . . then to my horror I realize I said something horribly wrong. She wasn’t asking me about babysitting, she was asking me if Kim was having pregnancy cravings. . . that’s why I’m buying the ice creme, right? So I accidentally said I have pregnancy cravings too.

Uhhh. . . I mean. . .

There’s no way to rescue myself from that one. What do I say, “haha, just kidding.” So I try to act confident, smile, and bee-line to my motorbike. Might be best to stay indoors tonight. Douse my pregnancy cravings with a big bowl of ice creme!

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