Pregnant women should wear buttons or, even better, sandwich boards, clearly stating their status.

Is the owner of the pictured gut with child or with chub? How is one to know? On anti-vertigo medication, I gladly grabbed a seat on the train when it became available in front of me. A quick glance up though revealed a frowning face. The inner guilt machine quickly turned my gaze to her gut, at the ready to relinquish my seat. My stomach-stare revealed only a midsection of mystery. A decision had to be made. A quick examination revealed pastels mixed with gem tones - Pregnant! Her choice of reading material was a Walt Dismey biography - Pregnant! And maybe a Nazi? Final judgement came, as it often does, with a review of shoes. Flat espadrilles, while light an airy on a warm summer morning, provide no support for a mom-to-be. Not pregnant! With a healthy balance of selfishness and sefrighteousness, I remained seated, avoiding further grisly glances by typing this out on the phone.