I was talking to a pregnant friend of mine on the phone yesterday.  Let’s call her.. uh… Shmolly.

And as we talked, Shmolly said, “Hang on, let me place this order.”

I said, “Ok.” because it is not uncommon for one of us to need to put the other on hold in order to take care of some sort of life-changing biz-nass, such as a drive-thru lane or um… to use the restroom.

So as I listen, this is what Shmolly says, “Yeah, can I get eighteen apple pies? [pause] No, not eight.  Eighteen.  Like 1-8.”

Dang. If pregnant people get to eat eighteen apple pies, maybe I am more ready to be a mom than I thought.

Some friendships are built on honesty, trust, or common interests.  Not us.

Shmolly and I?  Our friendship is built on a mutual love of all things pastry.