L: “Oh he’s so cute! How old is he?”

R: “Thank you! He just turned three. Is she yours?”

L: “Um…yeah…”

R: “She doesn’t look very much like you.”

L: “Are you serious? Who says that?”

R: “Well she doesn’t. Her eyes are all wrong. I’d get a maternity test.”

L: “You cannot be for real. How can you say that about MY child?! Look at yours!”

R: “Well at least he has an excuse. He’s adopted. You’re a rude young lady. I bet your husband was sleeping around. That’s why she looks so different from you.”

L: “Your ’son’ is a pig.”

R: “Well I don’t know about that. He’s a good eater, sure. We like to tell him he’s a healthy boy. He’s so cute when he’s eating. Cute and enthusiastic. Does your husband have a secretary? Most cheating happens at work.”

L: “He’s literally a pig. You dressed him up in people clothes. And my husband isn’t cheating on me.”

R: “Keep telling yourself that, bitch. I’m taking little Wilbur to get some ice cream. Good luck with your failed marriage.”