...meet oven.

Bun...

Stopped at a bakery for a quick breakfast on the way to work this morning, and two women soon took the café table next to mine. One of them was exceedingly petite, in fashionably snug white jeans and stylish top, and the other expressed astonishment—because her pal was four months pregnant. And, as the pregnant one explained, she is constantly sucking in her stomach. ALL THE TIME. Her friend continued to marvel, and warned her that she’d probably start to pop out, big time, by the six-month mark. I didn’t stick around to see her order a nonfat skinny what-have-you with Splenda.

All I can say is, I hope it’s a boy. Because if she has a girl, that kid is at punishingly high risk for an eating disorder, right from the get-go. Come to think of it, the boy probably will be, too.