I smiled at the immigration official. She met my smile with a cold gaze. I shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

“So, how was your trip?” she uttered in a monotone.

“It was great. It was beautiful weather, and so relaxing. How were your holidays?”

She harrumphed. “Stayed here. Didn‘ go nowhere. Guess it’s okay, though, I’m gonna be a granma this year.”

I was sincerely surprised. “Congratulations! But, you don’t look old enough to be a grandmother!”

A flicker of a smile crossed her face. “I am. Baby’s due in June. My son’s already twenty years old; ’bout time he started making babies.”

I checked carefully for another flicker of a smile. Was this perhaps irony that I wasn’t getting? No. She was serious.