“Where is the baby in your tummy?” asked the precocious, three-year-old boy.

“I don’t have one.”

“Why?” The boy stared incredulously at my belly, then turned to toss a questioning look at his own mother’s expanded, blessed abdomen. Something wasn’t measuring up. Literally.

“God has not blessed me with the gift of a child.”

“Oh.” The boy considered this bit of news for a moment. Then, having reached a satisfactory conclusion, he nodded his head. “Well, when He does, you will feed it with your bumps.”