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"So, the point of this is?" asked Omar, his fennec ears twitched as he watched George lay down sections of a large partially-constructed benchwork that lined the basement of Joy and George's suburban home. "You can purchase pre-constructed counters from the home improvement store."

The large hippo gentleman looked up from the sheet of plywood that would serve as the top 'deck' of the benchwork section, as he said, "Omar... the whole point of a hobby is to build something from nothing. I could pay someone to build a model railroad empire for me, but then I am denied the fun of doing it myself - besides, its something I can enlist the help of my friends". He indicated Omar, as well as the few other men in the large basement as Kyle looked around - this was the first time Kyle had ever been in Joy's house, spending quality time with her husband and the husbands of his co-workers.

"So...what do you guys do BESIDES train...toy...construction...stuff?" asked Kyle, curiously.

"First of all, these are precision scale models of railroading equipment in 1:160 scale ratio, known as N scale. Second of all, we do a lot of other things - we had a cookout planned for today, but the weather hasn't cooperate. Hence you are all here to enjoy a beer, except if you are Omar, then you get to drink the wife's tea and coffee" George said, as he looked to Omar with the last comment, who only looked back at him with a plain expression - something Omar was well known for.

"Despite your offers of alcohol, I cannot accept it - Allah forbids it" Omar offered, as George waves his hand. Omar was a stately gentleman, dressed in nice jacket and plain pants, completed with a pair of plain work shoes, shined and well-cared for in appearance. He wore a small brimless cap on his head, to cover the very top of his head and hair.

"It's alright, Omar, I just figure I'd offer... and you'd suggest something else and I'd get you that. I didn't want to exclude you from my initial offer of hospitality, it just doesn't seem right..." mentioned George, as he continued, "...Sarah and Joy have been friends a while, so I don't want to offend you in my house"

"Your thought is appreciated, George - I know you do so to convey a welcome to me" Omar said, as he drank his tea slowly.

Ted James, a raccoon gentleman who Kyle knew to be the husband of Carla, said, "Yeah, an island of testosterone - trying to save you from estrogen poisoning, Kyle. You work around all of that all day long, and you go out with them to celebrate at night - you need some men to hang out with, dude. Else your men bits will fall off!" with a straight face.

Kyle chuckled, "I assure you, your 'male bits' cannot fall off because you don't socialize with other guys. The ladies are wonderful people, talented professionals who have been inspiring ment..." unable to finish his sentence before Ken Parker interrupted him.

"...You don't need to sound like an acceptance speech, Kyle. We know they are great, we're married to them. You also don't need to sound like a five-star review, either." Ken stated. The older red fox could be mistaken as an older version of Kyle, save a little bit of grey hair on his head, the polo shirts and the investment banker-purchased Mercedes parked outside. Ken continued, "Andrea comes home, and I have learned that if I am going to have conversation that will not turn me off on food for the next two days - never say..."

Ted and Omar almost said in unison, to finish Ken's sentence, "Honey, tell me about your day!" to which George snickered loudly. They all had a chuckle, though Kyle looked confused at them until George managed to straighten his composure enough to speak again.

"You see... that phrase, for the uninitiated, is a trap. We are the spouses of medical professionals, and to boot - the husbands of midwives, Kyle. I mean, I am an ex-Paramedic, but still - such conversations over dinner, especially anything tomato-based, will end only in tears...and wasted dinner" George explained.

"That was a shocker...when I uttered that infamous phrase to Carla. What...I got...was something I can't un-know..." Ted explained, drinking a bit of his beer with a wide-eyed expression. George merely chuckled in his characteristic deep barrel-chested laugh as Ken jumped in.

"Yeah...fell into that trap a few years ago too... she was visiting me at work... we were dining in the cafeteria..." Ken began to explain as Omar looked at Ken, uncharacteristically shocked, as he interrupted.

"She did not. I mean, you were in public..." Omar spoke doubtingly, with a hint that he too could believe that his wife, the red fox lady Kyle knew as Andrea at work - who had the reputation being able to 'talk shop' anywhere, and to anyone.

Ken said, "She did too! Everyone just...stopped and listened...and a few people left but most just...sat there..." as he drank the rest of his beer, holding the bottle as he stared at the floor in silence.

"Its okay, Ken. We're here... just think of beaches, crashing surf, and more beer" George said, as he rose from his chair, going over to the refrigerator to get another beer for the shell-shocked investment banker. He returned with a few more beers to replenish those who were at the bottom of their bottles.

Kyle rolled his eyes, as Ken said, "Nothing in college...prepares you for that...saying those vows and dancing with your wife on your wedding day doesn't prepare you for the reality of their jobs... the things they see and touch..." as then he shivered in response to his own thoughts.

George chuckled, and said, "Drama queen much there, Ken? I was a Paramedic - I've delivered a few moments of insanity in my time in the back of a speeding ambulance. Its not repairing gunshot wounds or fixing up the results of a knife-fight. It's childbirth, its just a baby."

"...and the mess. A big mess. Icky icky mess" offered Ted, drinking the rest of the previous beer before cracking the new one, servicing the empty in the bin nearby.

George returned to his seat, and asked, "Carla still on the baby-baby-baby path?" as he looked at Ted.

"That volcano of fury has blown over, thanks to your advanced warning" Ted responded, putting some thought into the matter before he returns to his silent reflection.

"Keeping the back channels open. To prevent and avert disaster." offered Ken, as he took time to compose himself before he took a swig of beer from the new bottle.

Kyle chuckled and shook his head, as he managed, "Its not the Sum of All Fears, guys. Its having a family...a baby...with your wife, the woman you love" having not touched the beer in his hand.

"Now now now... that's not a fair grenade to throw from the guy who isn't even married, and hasn't trotted down that flowered path. Its one thing to see others taking those final steps along the path under your care - quite another for your own wife to come to you...this desire in her eyes as she tells you of this future...and this person you don't know...entering your life and changing it forever. I have two ADULT daughters, Kyle, I remember each time too... it's scary" George stated to him, drinking his beer.

Ken said, "Just one for me. That was enough..."

Omar said, stiffly, "Five, after the twins... I think Sarah decided it was enough... she's not as young as she used to be... infants are hard to care for in your later life"

Ted said, "Well, none on the kid front. Want to keep it that way too. Carla is snarly enough. I don't want her going off the deep end. Who knows who she'd kill in one of her rages..." with a shrug.

George sighed, "We diverged quite a bit into wife territory here. Trains, guys. We need to talk about trains...before its too late" as he digs through a small bag on a nearby counter, close enough to his chair to allow him to do so without leaving his seat.

Kyle said, "Alright alright... show us one of your magnificent toys...." George gave him the 'evil eye', to which Kyle corrected himself, "...errr...model...precision, exquisite models"

George pulled out a small plastic box out of the bag, showing off a small 4-4-0 steam engine with coal box, "One of many to come, I assure you..." he stated proudly as they looked at the small box in his large hands.