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“I’m…damn it, I’m fat now.”
“No. You’re perfect.”
“This,” I gasp. “I want this.” “Yes, ma’am.”
The mother of my child is upset.
Not slay
A blush rises in her cheeks when she realizes that Hannah and Grace are standing directly behind me and had witnessed the kiss.
I, on the other hand, don’t care if they witness us banging against the damn wall.
If you don’t have to work hard for something, then how can it ever truly be rewarding?
Sabrina turns to me. “Can we go upstairs and pack now?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Get over there and sit down.” He shakes his head. “Fool girl. The size of a house and she’s still trying to pretend she’s not pregnant,”
Stop💀💀💀
Carin wriggles her arms like she’s a member of Taylor Swift’s dance squad.
😭😭😭😭😭
💀💀I’m ded bye
“You gotta stop treating me like a piece of meat. I have feelings.”
But he whips off his shirt anyway and we all take a moment to praise God for creating a specimen like D’Andre, whose chest looks like it was sculpted out of marble.
“So we wait for your man.” “She doesn’t need a man,” Hope says. “She has us.” “Then why am I here?” “Because you love me and don’t want to sleep on the sofa,” Hope says sweetly. “That’s not a sofa, Hope. That’s a piece of wood with some foam on it.”
I loved this💀
D’Andre takes pity on all of us and helps me onto my knees. Which is where Tucker finds us.
WE WERE ROBBED
Gotta admit, my recent good times all involve Tucker too,
Laughter wins out. Tucker and I collapse against each other. We can’t stop laughing, and after a few seconds of calling our names and clapping for attention, Stacy finally asks us to leave.
NOT THEM GETTING KICKED OUT
Ok slay
I’d still pick Sabrina over a drunken orgy any day.
you once banged three chicks at the same time, but none of them are as good as her.
“I signed up for a fake Instagram account so I can troll him. When he posts something, I’ll wait a day or so and then pop on to comment about how cool it is that he and my grandpa are rocking the same shirt. I’ve done that twice now and each time, I’ve seen him shoving the shirt down the apartment’s trash compactor.”
“I need to take this. It’s my girl.”
For the past eight hours, I’ve been about as helpful as a fish out of water. Or a fish in water, because what the fuck do fish really offer to society?
Every time I try to encourage Sabrina to do her breathing, she glares at me like I slaughtered her treasured family pet.
When I offer her some ice chips to chew on, she tells me to s...
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😭😭😂STOP
there’s a lethal little hand bunching up my shirt. Sabrina hisses like a cornered jungle cat and murders me with her eyes.
swear to God, Tucker, if you don’t go find her right now, I will rip your stupid head off your stupid neck and FEED IT TO THE BABY!”
Time in labor: 19 hours. Time between contractions: 60 seconds.
Number of times Sabrina has threatened to kill me: 38. Number of broken bones in my hand: who knows.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You worked your way through college, worked your butt off to get to law school, and now you’re going to work a teeny bit harder and deliver this baby. Right?”
I ache for everything she’s gone through,
“This is fucked up. We shouldn’t be allowed to leave the hospital with a kid. I’ve never even had a pet before.”
“I love that you’re the one freaking out. Start the car, Tuck. The family behind us wants to leave.”
“They already have two kids. Let’s follow them home.”
“I’m surprised that even the Boston cop flipping you off and honking didn’t make you drive faster.”
I’ve learned in these last ten months that Tucker really gets off on helping me out of the truck, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m getting used to it. He’s got these old-school courtly manners. Like, doors are always held open. I have to walk on the inside of the sidewalk in case there’s a drive-by shooting. He even holds my coat.
And I’m so grateful to hear his calm voice, I nearly burst out in tears. Somehow I manage to hold it together, telling him about how Jamie’s going to win Olympic medals in weightlifting because she’s already strong as fuck or that she could be a magician because she’s able to wiggle out of every blanket I’ve tried to wrap her in.
Motherhood is hard. Harder than I ever imagined anything could be. It’s harder than studying for my SATs. My LSAT. More challenging than that paper I had to write for the women’s studies course in my freshman year that came back to me looking like two red pens had engaged in a murder-suicide all over my typewritten words. More tiring than working two jobs and taking a full load of classes for four years.
My respect for Nana is through the roof. If I had to raise one kid after the other, I’d be a little cranky too.
“Good luck, honey. Just remember, every year gets easier after the first one. And the first one is really just a war of attrition.” She pats me on the back. “You’ll be fine.”
There’s nothing sexier than a loving dad.
Tucker makes all my hormones do a giddy dance.
That shuts her up fast. Normally I’m not this rude during these random street pickups, but I really don’t like the way she touched my child without permission.
“See that over there? That’s a swing set,” I inform her as we walk by a small park. “When you’re a bit older, Daddy’s gonna take you there and push you on the swing.”
“Four daughters,” the woman confirms. “Poor Freddie over here couldn’t convince a single one of ’em to stay virgins.” I grin back. “Obviously he didn’t try hard enough. Did you consider purchasing a shotgun?”
Dean giving me awkward pats on the back counts as making up.
💀💀💀💀
“I think he’s found someone else.”
Sab lost her brain during birth yall
“Because if I tell him, then he’ll feel bound to me. He’s so honorable and so decent, he won’t even look at another woman.”
