Hanging Out with the Baby

Hangout with my family. My dad’s hair is whiter than I’ve ever seen it. Images of the new born babe, five days old. Same birthday as our dog, right so close to Valentines.

What’s it going to be when it grows up, I ask.

I keep telling them that I will turn the girl into a boy.

Is that any way that you would treat your mother or anyone else’s? Do you even have any idea how difficult it is to be a mother? I don’t. I have no idea, and I will never fully know because I was not born that way. Can’t even fully talk about it, and it’s all because of my white dick which is always getting in the way, making me further understand Melville and Ahab’s rage.

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