My three-and-a-half foot tall conscience

Randy could not have called at a better time this afternoon. I was trying to make a quick trip to the Croissants de France for a cheap cup of coffee and a loaf of sandwich bread. On the way there and back to the gate of our garden I was constantly being accosted by many Chinese women. It was a barrage of the normal questions I've been getting this week, mostly about my apparent ignorance of confinement practices, though there were some about how much my hospital bill in Hong Kong was and why didn't I hire a baby nurse. I happily excused myself because it was wo de laogong. My husband.

I told Randy what we was going on and that I was considering lying about Brigid's age. "They all ask, jige yue? (how many months) when they see her. Can't I just lie and answer something like a month and a half? It's not like anyone would know any better....."

Myles overheard me. Immediately he looked at me so seriously. "Don't lie, Mom. You can't lie."

A few minutes later, when asked by a stranger, "Jige yue?" I truthfully answered, "Shi si tian (fourteen days)." And promptly caught heck for something about socks once the same stranger got over her shock.

"Did you lie, Mom?" Myles asked me suspiciously. I assured him I hadn't. He still looked at me so seriously.

"You can't lie, Mom," he said.