Enceinte: pregnant; with child…like when you… you know… have a kid in you.
September 23, 1970
"Don't look at me, Arthur. I'm fat." Molly said as she looked in the mirror of their bathroom. She was just under eight-months and her originally thin frame had been stretched to almost comical proportions. In fact, everything had swelled. Her nose took up a large portion of her face, she had to place an enlargement charm on her shoes and her rear end was a common annoyance (and a common distraction for her husband).
"Don't be ridiculous Molly;" Arthur said as he stepped behind his wife, "You're pregnant."
"So you don't deny that I'm fat," Molly said.
Arthur frowned at his mistake and watched as Molly walked (waddled) to their bedroom. He quickly strode after her.
"No dear, I mean that you have a human being growing inside of you. It is perfectly fine that you've put on weight," Arthur smiled, sure that he had adequately explained himself.
"Oh, so I've 'put on some weight', eh?" Molly said, her voice rising in pitch. Arthur slapped his head repeatedly. She began to stand up slowly. She failed and plopped back onto the bed. She tried again and Arthur tried to help her up, but his hand was slapped away. On her third attempt, she stood and walked into the kitchen, flustered.
"Sit down dear, I'll make you lunch."
"Yes, because the whale in the kitchen is obviously hungry," Molly said crossly. She flicked her wand at the ice box and bread and cold cuts flew around the room, a tomato very nearly beaning Arthur in the head. He sat and read for the rest of the day, certain he couldn't get in trouble for being silent.
