An ode to pickles

I know I've been talking a lot about food lately, but... well, I can't help it.

I always expected that when I got pregnant, if I craved something, I would crave it throughout the pregnancy. I didn't realize the cravings would change from day-to-day (or sometimes minute-to-minute). One day, all I can think about eating are plums. The next day, I couldn't care less about plums, but MAN, I could go for some chocolate milk.

The one exception: Pickles. Pickles were one of my first cravings and they have been a steady desire for weeks. The whole pickles are the best, but spears will do in a pinch. (Oh, who am I kidding? Those little slices you put on sandwiches work, too.)

And the weirdest part? It almost always hits me at the same time of day: about 4:30 p.m., as I'm on the road headed home after work. By the time I get home at 5 p.m., I am practically running up the stairs to tackle the jar of pickles waiting in my fridge.

But yesterday, I had a stoke of genius in the morning. What if I tossed a few into a sandwich bag, took them to work, and brought them with me on the road on my way home?!

As is typical, I got stuck in horrible traffic, but for once, I wasn't annoyed. Cuz I had three pickles to keep me company. As I chowed down, I half-wondered what the people in the cars next to me were thinking. It's probably not every day you see a lady sitting in her car on a freeway in rush-hour traffic, scarfing down pickle after pickle, smiling to herself.