"Think of it as a learning experience." Babsie teased.
"Some learning experience."
"Hey girl, it was hardly our fault these guys grow out of their clothes."
"They're called hand-me-downs."
"Yeah, only when they're little their clothes get worn out so damn fast you can't use 'em as hand-me-downs."
"Well, that's a kick in the pants."
"No kidding."
"But I suppose it's a big easier when they're older?"
"Sure, but even then, after the first couple of kids, they wear out anyway."
"Ahh, it's the clothes industry conspiracy."
"Exactly."
Rita giggled.
"Y'know Babsie?"
"What Psy?"
"I think you've been in the USA way too long."
"Why do you say that?"
"You're losing your Australian accent."
Babsie stared at her. Rita smiled.
"Yeah, I think I am too." Rita added with a smile.
"Rita, you lost your ages ago." Babsie pointed out. "Gee, I thought I was doing a good job of keeping mine."
"A little hard to do that when you've been out of the country so long."
"Yeah, I suppose. Ahh, well, at least I still got me true blue Aussie jargon."
"Fair dinkum mate." Psy joked.
Babsie was in the middle of a grin, when her hand flew to her stomach, and she had to stop where she was and gasp for breath.
"Mummy?" seven-year-old Rogue asked, eyes wide.
"I'm ok, Rogue." Babsie replied. "Mummy's just having con- umm, ahh, the baby. Right now."