Milo and The Amazing Giant Baby

On Friday I was standing around at LaGuardia waiting to board my plane. Milo was sitting in his stroller, smiling at the world, when another woman with a stroller pulled up next to us. We stood side by side in silence for a moment, then began the obligatory baby conversation.
"Boy?" said the woman.
I nodded.
"Yours?"
"Boy," she said.
Her baby began to gnaw on his stroller's seat belt.
"How old is yours?" she asked.
"Four months."
"Really?" she looked shocked. "Mine's four and a half months."
I looked at her baby, who was easily twice the size of Milo. He had a head the size of a soup kettle, long arms and linebacker shoulders. This was no ordinary four month old. I was seconds away from saying to her, "Yours is oddly big, right?" before it occured to me that perhaps she didn't want me pointing out that her son was a freak of nature. And as I stared at the giant baby, I became conscious of the fact that she was staring at Milo, probably thinking that he was ridiculously small. So we sat there in silence, two mothers comparing babies, each not knowing what to say next.
"Huh," I finally managed.
"Yeah," she said.
And then our flight began to board, and we were spared any further conversation.