I have long known that one should never ever congratulate a woman for being pregnant unless one knows (really really knows) that she is happily pregnant. 

About seven years ago, my wife told me that one of the women living in our neighborhood was pregnant.  This surprised me, because I knew that Sally (not her real name) had told me that she had no interest in having children.

About an hour later, though, while I was walking about a neighborhood art fair, I saw Sally.  I walked up to talk with her.  I commented that we hadn’t seen each other for quite a few months.  She gestured toward her abdomen and stated “I’ve put on some weight since then.”  I had noticed that she had, indeed, gained considerable weight.  Therefore, I stated “Congratulations!”

She asked, “Congratulations about what?”

I instantly knew that I had broken a very basic rule and I was now paying for it.  Sally wasn’t pregnant.  I quickly mumbled something like “congratulations about this year’s art fair.”  Sally was a volunteer in charge of the art fair.  She looked at me as if I was acting strange, but then we talked a bit more before parting ways.

When I got home, I asked my wife how she knew that Sally was pregnant.  She said that one of the other neighbors had told her.  I had assumed that my wife had talked to Sally herself and learned about Sally’s pregnancy firsthand.  Instead, rumor had been turned into a …