Preg moment of the year: In the fish store, buying pollock. Spy unfortunate demise of soft-shell crab happening in background. Bust out bawling and have to leave the store, beyond words, much to the alarm of the man holding up a pound of beautiful filleted fish for me to admire. Sympathetic middle-aged ladies follow me out, find me (now a puddle) weeping under a tree outside. They offer hugs and insist upon buying my dinner for me. “Honey,” one says. “When I was as far along as you I couldn’t watch DOG FOOD commercials because watching the dogs begging was too much for me.” Oy vey! Hormone overload!