"That's great," Sharon says, hugging her back. "When is your due date?"
"Oh, I don't know mumbo jumbo like that!" her friend exclaimed. "Due date? What are you--a doctor? I figure whenever the baby comes, great. Except if it comes when I'm supposed to be on vacation. That would just suck. Whatever--I'd just shove it back in and say, "uh...heeeeeello, who's in charge here? I'm the boss and I still need to finish off this wine-tasting tour. Then you can come. Right?"
"Um...I don't think you're supposed to drink wine when you're..."
But her friend was ignoring her, waving her still damp pee stick in the air and screaming, "my husband has super sperm!"
"You know, I really have to get to work, but I'd love...," Sharon began.
"To throw me a baby shower! Thank you! Oh thank you so much. I am so excited. I want only the most expensive things. Like a plasma television so I can show the baby videos all day that will make her super smart. And a new cuisinart so I can make good foods for myself to eat so I have the energy to give her to my husband for a diaper change. And a new wine cabinet so I can store all of my wine."
Sharon stumbled out of the Starbucks, still drinkless and continued on her way to work, anxious rubbing her temples to stave off the headache that was starting to form. She had a nagging feeling that she didn't have the trigger shot at home. She would have to take care of it when she got to work.
When she got to work, she saw her boss through the staircase window.