Patrice jabbed at her friend's enormous tummy, which peeked out from beneath her too-tight maternity shirt. "I'm not so sure that's a wise decision. You can't even fit into your fat clothes."

"Hey, I ate my broccoli at dinner. Junior wants cheese puffs." She set the bowl of ice cream down and rubbed a small lump that jutted out of her abdomen.

A heel? An elbow? Patrice reached over to join in the fun, poking at the protrusion. "Why can't Junior want the junk food we already have? This is not a good start to your relationship with your child. You let that baby boss you around." Whatever body part it was gave her palm a thump so hard, her hand bounced off.

"No." Cathy laughed. "I let this baby boss you around!"

After the first fiasco at the convenience store, Patrice always dressed a little better before visiting. No more wrinkled sweats and smeared makeup when she saw Mister-Good-Looking-Clerk-Who-Didn't-Wear-A-Name-Tag. For almost three weeks, she'd been visiting this store, but from the looks of Cathy's enormous abdomen, those visits would be ending soon.