Last night, I decided to don a cute shirt that I hadn’t been able to squeeze into since my pre-pregnancy days. It fit, and I was pretty stoked. After dinner, my husband Paul was lovingly rubbing my back. I was enjoying the moment, feeling cute again, when he said, “Honey, does this shirt fit?”

“What do you mean, does it fit?” I asked. “Of course it fits. I have it on, don’t I?” I said with a touch of indignation creeping into my voice.

A smile touched the corners of his mouth. “What I mean is, didn’t you wear this shirt before you were pregnant?”

“Yes, I did. It was too small a few months ago, but now it fits.”

“So, your definition of fit means you are able to get it on.”

“Correct. What else could it mean?”

He just smiled at me, but because we’re soul mates, I knew exactly what he was thinking. “Baby, you look good in anything you wear,” he said instead. What a smart man. What a very smart man.

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