IT'S HARD to explain how it was that I, nine and a half months pregnant, and my man got busted breaking into the city dump at night. We needed a new bed frame. My sleep deprived brain was smeared by blood-red clouds of unbridled rage. We needed a new bed frame immediately. So we drove to the dump. The dump, a magical place anytime, seems especially wondrous when you have it all to yourself; piles...