A man offered me his seat on the bus this morning. Now that only happens to people who a) look like they’re on the brink of death b) are reliant on an object to remain vertical or c) pregnant. I rapidly did the mental maths and decided that, as a 33 year old woman who has been tucking into antioxidants for some months now, I couldn’t possibly resemble the first two options. This man had obviously assumed I was with child.

I politely, if curtly, turned him down and looked down at my front. I was wearing several cardigans under a thin, black coat with only the top button done up because of the bulk of wool underneath (much as you might fashion a coat over a baby bump, come to think of it). Some might say get a proper winter coat but, whatever, I’d been wearing my winter wardrobe that way most winters since I was born and no one had EVER offered me their seat on public transport.

I started to get worked up. I could definitely add this to the list of ironic and frankly, crap jokes the universe seems to be playing on me at the moment. First, there were all those babies being born to our best friends, within days of our difficult test results. Fume. Then there was getting my period the day my best friend went on maternity leave. Fume. Then there was being asked to be godparents three hours after getting our difficult test results.

I had reached such a ferment by the time the bus reached my stop that I just had to go over and talk to this man who had offered me his seat. “Why?” I said, “why did you offer me your seat exactly?”

And you know what he said in reply? “You looked like you were having a bad morning.”

Another cracking joke delivered from the universe to make me see that I have now completely mislaid my sense of perspective.

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