The market is crowded, the air thick with the scent of fresh fabric and spices. My mother-in-law holds up a tiny blue onesie, her face glowing with certainty. "This one," she declares, as if it’s already decided. "But we don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl yet," I say, shifting Farah on my hip. "It’s too soon." She waves me off, her fingers tracing the stitching. "It’s a boy. I know it." "How?" I ask, baffled. "Farah’s hair swirls in the middle of her head," she explains, as if revealing ancient wisdom. "That means her next sibling is a boy. It’s science." I blink. "That’s not science." She ignores me, already moving to another stall, leaving me standing there with a pile of blue clothes I’m not even sure we’ll need. Hours later, my feet ache, my arms heavy from carrying bags, and Farah, who refuses to stay still. I collapse into a chair in the food court, setting her down beside me. She wiggles, impatient, while I pull out my phone, desperate for a moment of quiet.
Last Updated : 2025-07-01
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