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    G chats

    [while pointing at my shirt] G: Momma, down. Ball!

    S: He thinks you have a ball under you shirt.

    Me [while straightening the shirt and pointing to the belly]: No, buddy. Baby!

    G [continuing to point]: BALL!

    S [defensively]: I didn’t teach him that!

    Oh yeah, this sure doesn’t give a pregnant woman a complex or anything.

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