I just spent all morning at a charity thing for homeless addicts. I was with coworkers – 20% were pregnant, 100% were weepy women, and 60% were Christian.

So now, because these things could not be giggled at then:
“So we will share our hearts with you, as we hope you will share yours with us.”
(are… are these chocolate hearts? They want us to eat their hearts?)
“…for some may say we do not serve a purpose but I believe we do…”
(tasty chocolate homeless hearts.)

And also, but not limited to:
K: “so how far along are you?”
M: “couple of months”
K: “oh that’s so cute! how big is it?”
M: “about the size of my fist”
P: “how big is that in terms of fruit?”
me: “what?”
P: “you know, like a cantaloupe or a lemon or”
M: “it’s the size of an apple. why food?”
SHE COMPARES A FETUS TO FOOD AND I CAN’T START WITH DEAD BABIES JOKES. Why god, why? Why do you laugh at me today?

Just so you all aren’t convinced I’m totally heartless, I will be dedicating a few hours in the upcoming months to supporting the Recovery Cafe. It really is a great place. And full of fodder!