when to start being careful.
Oops. Don’t have to be careful.
Trey won’t be home until spring
break, and that’s still weeks away.
[Remember that ob-gyn thing?]
Yeah, yeah. I’ll get around to it,
maybe even before spring break.
Jeez, maybe I can’t get pregnant.
Maybe having a baby at seventeen
screwed up my uterus, confused
my hormones. [Wishful thinker,
aren’t you?] Anyway, I’m safe
for now. A couple fewer possibilities.
Brad Is a Little Late Tonight
Stopped to see my Mexican amigo,
he explains. Es muy bueno!
The new batch is really good.
Why is it I don’t doubt that?
As we eat dinner, my stomach
churns in anticipation. I can’t
afford to buy much, but I hope—
no, I know—he’ll be generous.
Homework, baths, then bed!
Spoken like a true dad.
We help the girls with their
assignments, hustle them off
to the tub and sweet dreams.
I even read them a bedtime story.
Once they’ve dozed off, Brad
knocks on my door. In the mood?