Three months and one day

In theory I quite like taking Alice to the clinic to be weighed (10lb 13oz as of Tuesday), as there's toys and beanbags and a chance to chat to other parents. And yet in reality there's always one person there who makes me wish I'd stayed at home. This week, a well-meaning but irritating old woman, who came and looked over my shoulder while her daughter and grandson were in with the health visitors:

WMBIOW: I see you're bottle-feeding - it's taking such a long time...
Me: Well unfortunately she can't breastfeed because of her cleft palate [thinking: even if I was choosing to bottle-feed with no medical reason, it's really none of your business].
WMBIOW: Ooh, no! Aw. But don't worry, they can operate on that these days you know.
Me: Yes, she's having her first operation in a couple of weeks [thinking: oh REALLY, wow, they can operate? Thanks for the info, somehow I'd missed out on that despite being her MOTHER].

I then sat and gritted my teeth through her vaguely pitying noises until she changed the subject to knitting. Sigh.