Buns in the oven

So today I overheard a coworker talking to her child on the phone -- it was really sweet. She called her little girl 'peanut' in an uber makes-you-want-to-puke-because-it's-so-cute endearing voice. When she got off the phone the other women around her told her that the nickname was so cute (she had used this nickname for her little girl since she was pregnant), she also said she'll sometimes call her daughter 'monkey' - which made the other women giggle with child-nickname envy.

Now, I don't have a baby, nor am I currently pregnant (the world isn't ready for crazy Liv babies) but when my sister was pregnant with my niece, we didn't call her 'peanut'...or 'monkey'...no, we called that little bun-in-her-oven 'BB'. "What does BB stand for Liv?' You might ask. I'll tell you what it stands for. 'Baby Burrito'. That's what it stands for. My sister craved burritos for days upon days straight...so, naturally, 'baby burrito' was the logical name here. And yes, even after she craved burritos we still kept calling that beautiful fetus 'BB'. We wouldn't have dreamed of calling the baby 'baby casserole' or 'baby caviar' or even 'baby cheeseburger with pickles and onions'.

Now BB has turned into Gracie...a half-crazed, no-fear, jump off a piano into a vat of piranhas in pink dresses two-year-old who never does anything I tell her to unless I buy her Dora stick-on fingernails....and I love her.