Lately, I have a real thing for hummus. I cannot get enough of it. I desire it with the heat of a trillion fiery suns. I want to fill a kiddie pool and marinate myself in a hummus bath. If I could inject it directly into my veins, I would. I would eat so much hummus that I would become hummus. We would become one. And I would become a wildly popular date for anyone bringing a crudité platter to a party.

For now, I am indulging my little craving. I figure cravings are your body’s way of telling you what it needs. And if my body needs a few metric tons of chickpeas, who am I to stand in its way?

Here’s the annoying thing, though. People tend to assume that any recently married woman of childbearing age is suddenly and indisputably on a babymaking tear. For these people, there is no clearer evidence of your rampant fertility than your having a craving. A craving for anything. Witness:

Woman: “I am craving a ________ (burrito/cucumber/deep fried twinkie/cart of dim sum/wheatgrass smoothie/knish)!”
Annoying person: “Ohmigod you are totally pregnant!”

Woman: “I could really go for a ________  (nap/career advancement/trip to Beirut/quickie on the kitchen floor/stiff drink/new pair of boots/night at the movies)!”
Annoying person: “So when is the baby due?”

Woman: “You know, I have concerns about industry deregulation. How can we wholly trust for-profit companies to protect the consumer?”
Annoying person: “I was wondering when we’d get the big news! Congratulations!”

If this happens to you, you are pretty much screwed. Whether the annoying person in question is jesting or not, the best response is to smile wanly and give a vague shrug. If you get visibly exasperated, they will only use your emotion as ammunition against you: whoa, whoa, gear down there, hormonal! No matter how dim-witted they appear, never underestimate an annoying person. They are vicious monsters with evil in their cold black hearts. Ha ha! No, but seriously though. When are you having kids?

Sorry, sorry. What I meant to say was: can you grab a bucket? This pool of hummus isn’t going to fill itself. Thanks.