“What was that?” I ask, my tone half amusement and half confusion. Bo pouts disingenuously, as if to say Oh, you poor thing. “A cell phone, honey.” “Yes, thank you. I’m familiar. But why did you take our photo?” And you probably shouldn’t call me honey. It does things to my stomach. Like what I’d expect a cartwheel in space to feel like. “I’m documenting! We’re about to meet our kid. I don’t want to forget anything.”
