“Shit, shit, fuck, shit.” I banged my forehead against the steering wheel, my ponytail falling apart to match the rest of my life. In the rearview mirror, I watched as Grav’s mouth hung open, her eyes as big and wide as the moon. She was buckled into her car seat, hugging Mr. Mushroom, her chubby penis-looking pink stuffie. She was hopelessly attached to the thing. A gift from Cal to me that had somehow ended up being my toddler’s transition object. “Mommy!” she chided with a gasp. “Grandma will be mad when she hears.” “I’ll let you drink Mommy’s soda if you don’t tell her.” I bribed her with
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