I need to be writing
Is it a boy or a girl? Life continues. How do you spell your email again, she asks, shooting me an invitation to view the little seedling’s progress with her. Honey Nut. Poppy seed to apple seed. Baby on board. Crazy drivers pulling into our lane. Headlights shining through the rain. Buckle up and the belt is against your belly. Legalize guns. Gay marriage down the drain. Even if this thing is retarded, you’re still having it, and don’t you ever think about killing it.
That’s what they’d all expect.