So Tony’s parents called this evening to wish my mum safe travels home (she leaves tomorrow), and to ask how the baby’s doing.

“How are you feeling?” asks Dad-in-law.

“Food tastes funny.”

“What?”

“Food. It all tastes funny. Water tastes funny. It’s starting to get weird.”

“Must be a girl, then.” And then he starts chuckling over the inanity of his own statement.

Gotta love dad.

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