On Thursday I stopped in my local pharmacy to pick up a prescription, and it went a little something like this…

Me: (in my best be-nice-to-be French) Bonsoir Madame Pharmacist! I need this prescription filled, please.

Madame Pharmacist: (in rapid-fire French) blah blah blah blah blah blah…that’s a lot of iron. Are you sure that you need 8 bottles of iron?

Me: Oui! (insert big, please-don’t-ask-me-more-questions-because-I-don’t-understand-you smile)

Madame Pharmacist: I don’t think we have that much….blah blah blah….blah blah blah? (smile smile, wink, wink)

(other pharmacists smiling and nodding)

Me: Oui! (I have no idea what you just asked me).

Madame Pharmacist: Oh OK! blah blah blah…congratulations!..we’ll have to order more…blah blah…pick it up tomorrow. Have a nice night!

Me: Merci, au revoir!

It wasn’t until later when I replayed the pharmacy conversation in my head that I realized I told them I was going to have a baby.

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