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“Oh, you look like a hot dentist.” I smile excitedly.
“It’s ironic that you say that.” He looks down at himself, unimpressed. “I’m currently imagining pulling your teeth out, one by one.”
“You know, when I met you on the plane and you guessed that I was married to a vegan yoga nut, you failed to mention that you planned on turning into her.”
“Ahhhhhh,” he cries too as he reaches over and tries to put his hand up my dress. “What are you doing?” I yell. “Just putting my hand there to stop it coming out.” I swat him away. “You are the dumbest smart man I know,” I cry.
“If I could do this for you, I would,” he whispers. “You know that I would.”
“You are supposed to be chill like your mother, not psychopathic like me.”
“He said he wants scotch in his bottle.” “He did not say that.”
“Oh that’s right, it was me, I want to drink scotch from the fucking bottle.”
The kids are playing in the back garden, James is five, Imogen is four, Alexander is two, and I’m pregnant again.
“I don’t want to push you out.” He sighs. “You haven’t, sweetheart. You’ve set me free.”
“Look what you did, Harry,” Patrick snaps outraged. “He’s crying now because he has to be your father and you’re so naughty. Harry is going to be good from now on, aren’t you, Harry.”
“He’s sharing his sons with me, it’s only fair I share my child with him. He’s a part of this family too.”
