"Colin?!" Harriet screamed from the living room. She was 7 months pregnant now, and had extremely weird cravings. The weirdest yet was pickles and ice cream. . . .

"Yes?" Colin answered. He was tired; he had to do the dishes, the laundry, the lawn, his job. . . . It was very tiring. Now I know what women go through, he thought.

"Can I have a peanut butter sandwich?"

Colin sighed with exhaustion and relief. . . .His wife wasn't asking for anything real hard, was she?

"With asparagus?" she said with what sounded like a grumble from her stomach.

"Yes, Harriet," Colin replied, walking to the pantry and opening it up, looking for the peanut butter. "Anything for you and that baby."

Colin found the peanut butter and heard a snore from the living room through the loud boom of the TV. He went to investigate and found, not to his surprise, Harriet, asleep, back to the floor, snoring loudly as her gigantic stomach moved slowly up and down. . . .

"Harriet?" Colin asked sheepishly. He prodded her on the shoulder and she awoke with a start.

"Olives and pickles please!" she said, sitting up and knocking him in the nose, which started to bleed. "Oh, sorry, Hon. . . ."

Colin plugged his nose and hugged Harriet. "Ib's albite," he said through his plugged nose. "Just get me some tissues, or make the sandwich yourself."

"I'll make the sandwich myself," Harriet replied, putting a hand on her knee and standing up. "Go get a tissue or we'll have to get the carpet replaced. . . ."

She walked out of the room, leaving Colin to run to the bathroom, grab the box, and run into the kitchen. Harriet was sitting at the table, finishing her sandwich with her tall glass of milk. "I'b gonna get a sandwich, too. Is that alright?"

Harriet nodded, her mouth full of sandwich. She's so pretty, Colin thought. I'm still glad she's mine. . . .

A week later, Colin went to work and saw his boss Harry when he first walked in the door. He looked angry; Colin smiled warily.

"Colin!" Harry shouted, so everyone in the vicinity jumped. "Why didn't you tell me your wife was having a baby girl?!"

Colin felt relieved; he thought he had done something to get him fired, like the time he told Mia she was his future wife. . . . "I'm sorry, Sir," Colin replied, looking at the floor.

"Yes," Harry replied, grinning. "Just don't buy another woman a golden necklace, right?"

Colin looked up so fast that Harry stepped back and walked off. What did he mean 'Just don't buy another woman a golden necklace'? Had he cheated on HIS wife Karen?

No, Colin thought. Harry would never do that! He loved Karen, or, did he? The thought slipped his mind as he sat down at his desk, beside Sarah, a woman with long, red hair and green eyes. Her best friend was a cell phone, since her brother called so much.

"Hello, Sarah," Colin said, not looking at her.

"Hi, Colin," Sarah replied. She was American. Why hadn't Colin just gone out with her? That's what he wanted wasn't it? An American girl, right?

BEEP! BEEP! It was Sarah's cell phone. She picked it up right away and said "Hello, Darling."

She talked and then the phone clicked and she hung up.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Colin asked. He wondered who it could be. . .

"No," Sarah replied, looking gloomy. "It's my brother, he has Alzheimer's disease. But I did have a boyfriend once, but my brother ruined it for me, but I still love him."

Sarah stopped and blushed. "What about you?"

"Me?" Colin asked, looking up from his spreadsheet on the computer. "Well, I'm married and my wife, Harriet is going to have a baby."

"Congratulations!" Sarah said, her mouth hanging open in a smile. "Boy or a girl?"

"Girl," Colin replied, looking back at his computer spreadsheet.

"What are you gonna name the baby?"

"Not sure."

"How's your wife coming along?"

"She falls asleep everywhere, goes to the bathroom every ten minutes, and eats strange foods. . . ."

"Every woman does that when she's pregnant," Sarah said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "It's a way of life. . . . And does she get sick in the morning and throws up?"

"Er Yes, she does," Colin replied, looking up. "It's her seventh month of pregnancy. . . . The doctor said it was morning sickness."

"That's right," Sarah said, smiling. "Now we'd better get to work, before Harry comes over and tells us off for not working. . . ."