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.