Some people prefer pickles and ice cream

Something about the final episode of The Sopranos being aired last week, plus my thoughts yesterday about the possibility of one's naming a child Dannon as a nod to a pregnancy craving made me think of a very strange craving I experienced when I was pregnant with Meelyn.

I had an odd, intense craving for crime family movies. I nearly drove my husband insane by bloodthirstily requesting The Godfather, Goodfellas, Scarface and such when he would make his Friday night run to Blockbuster. There I'd sit on the couch, my fingers laced around my belly, wearing a pink maternity smock with ducks pushing baby carriages embroidered on the bodice, yelling, "Make sure you get one with LOTS OF BLOOD AND SHOOTING" at my husband's retreating back.

When I was in labor and the nurse came at me with a syringe full of Demerol, I said, "'Say hello to my little friend'," and nearly hurt myself laughing. No one else thought it was funny.

Ah, good times....gooood times...