I live in Salt Lake City.

My husband, Dave, grew up here. He went to high school here, he went to college here, all of his family lives here. When we go to the grocery store he tells me about the time he vandalized that store as a thirteen year old. We go for a walk by our house and he can tell me about the places we pass, who lived there, where he broke his arm on a trampoline, the driveway where a friend's dad had them all squish their hand prints into the cement. Our financial planner is Dave's high school buddy. Our pediatrician is across the street from the apartment complex he lived in when we met.

I think this is weird.

I have always felt a little bit strange about the whole concept of former boyfriends Facebook friending me. I feel that if your tongue has ever touched mine there is never a good time to try and rekindle that relationship, no matter how friendly you want to keep it, thank you very much. But if you grew up where you live you could see that guy at the grocery store, or your ninth grade Spanish teacher at he DMV. That girl who never let you sit at her lunch table? She could be asking you if you want fries with that (yeah, that's never happened to me either, but I can dream, can't I?).

I had a baby two weeks ago. I was attached to a bunch of medical doohickeys so when I had to use the bathroom my husband came in to hold up all medical apperati. Unbeknownst to us in all of our maneuvering the nurse's call button had been pushed and a nurse came rushing in, thinking that I must have fallen or was in distress.

She opened the door. “Is everything O.K.?”

Dave and I both looked at her, a little bewildered.

“The call button was pushed, are you alright?”

We realized what was going on and I told her that I didn't know how we had managed to push the button but that we were fine.

Just then my husband says “Sheri? Sheri Nelson? Brad's's little sister, right? I'm Dave McKay.”

“Oh my gosh, Dave! I haven't seen you in ages! How are you doing!?”

“Well, were great, we're having a baby! This is my wife Traci-”

Dave turns to introduce me and we all realize that yep, I'm still nine months pregnant, on a toilet in a backless gown.

“Um, Hi, nice to meet you, Sheri.”

We need to move.