Yellow beauty

Yellow Mom is visiting me this weekend.

"Wow, you look so big!" she remarked when she saw my expectant belly.

"Yes," I replied.

"Grandma says that because you are beautiful, your daughter will be beautiful."

"Oh, that's sweet," I said.

She then looked at my face. "Why do you have so many zits?"

There it was, the familiar Yellow Mom gem.

I've heard the old wives' tale that, during pregnancy, a daughter steals her mother's beauty. And if that's the case, this Baby Yellow Gal is doing a hell of a job. I've been breaking out like an adolescent throughout my entire pregnancy. So much for that "pregnancy glow" that every other pregnant woman seems to rave about.

"I started breaking out since I got pregnant," I said. "You didn't break out when you were pregnant?"

"No," she said, her face still crinkled in horror.

"Oh, okay," I said. Really, how else do you respond to that? So much for that facial earlier this week.

My zits notwithstanding, Baby Yellow Gal seems to be thriving within. A month to go!

If estranged friends could really talk openly

"I've noticed that we haven't been as close as we used to be."

"Yep."

"Why is that?"

"I don't think we have as much in common anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"You like to be negative and complain about your life all the time. And I no longer want to be negative nor do I want to hear you complain about your life all the time. Does that make sense?"

"I think so."

"I just think we're different people. You need to find a friend who likes to indulge your depressive rants, who doesn't mind that you can talk about yourself nonstop for hours at a time without once asking her how she is doing, and who enjoys conversations where any time she mentions herself you feel the need to veer the conversation back to your purportedly awful life. I'm just not that friend, I'm sorry to say."

"Oh I see."

"Awesome. So no hard feelings?"

"No."

"Okay, take care."

"You too."

And at least one of them lived happily ever after.