My Imagination? I Think Not!

Yesterday I went to a birthday party for an old friend.  Despite burning my eyelashes trying to light a cigar (WTF is up with those crazy super-lighters? You can't see the flames on those things!) and loosing at poker, I managed to have a lot of fun. The party highlighted something that until yesterday I thought was only a figment of my imagination: Almost every single person who knows Alan and me wants us to have a baby. Everywhere we go, the people who know us ask us a variation of the same question: "When are you having babies?".  I find this question both annoying and distasteful. Why, WHY is everybody against the integrity of my cervix?

I have bought a purse-sized pie that I shall henceforth carry in my purse. It will be hurled at the next person who asks me about babies. Seriously. I will throw it at your face, and you will be covered in cherry-goo. It is the only appropriate response I can think of for questions regarding the subject.