Congratulations. Bob told me that you’re pregnant.
He told you? Dammit, I asked him not to say anything yet.
You know, sweetie, you shouldn’t be drinking wine in your condition.
My condition? OMG, sweetie, mind your own fucking business.
Things at the party went downhill from there.
Written for this week’s Twittering Tales prompt from Kat Myrman. Photo credit: Lisa Fotios @ Pexels.com.