Ava

“You added the feeding pillow to the list?” he asks as we turn down the nursing aisle.

“I told you I did.” I look down at the iPad though to make sure I really did. (I did.)

When I look up again, he’s holding up the two pumps from a double electric breast pump on display to his chest. “Please, please, please can we get these?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh my God. Are you twelve?” I don’t mention his second slip of the word “we.”

“This is like having a video game on your chest.” He pretends to shoot the pumps in my direction.

I snatch one out of his hand. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s like.”

“I’d never leave my house.” He’s examining the remaining pump, as if trying to figure out how he could make one of his own.

“You’d never leave the house if you had breasts, period.” I grab the second one from him and return it to the shelf.

He stands over my shoulder to look at the screen of the registry iPad. “Put it on the list. Put it on. Put. It. On.”

Shaking my head, I add it to the list.”
― Laurelin Paige, Hot Cop