I went shopping the other day with Charlie and while we were waiting in a checkout line the woman in front of me struck up conversation.
"How old is your baby?" she asked, as Charlie started his charm offensive.
"4 months," I said.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked. (Wouldn't it be nice if there was another pronoun? 'It' just sounds so odd.)
"He's a boy. Charlie," I replied, hoping that by giving him a name we could move on to talking about him as an individual, rather than as a gender class.
"It's hard to tell," she said, pausing for a moment. "Do you have a girl as well?" she asked in a knowing tone.
"Yes," I replied.
"'Cause he's wearing pink socks," she said.
I felt like saying, "He was wearing a pink jumpsuit earlier today and his penis didn't even fall off!" But instead I just smiled nervously, hoping that our conversation was now over.