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That night was different though; we were more civil to each other and spent a lot of time together. We laughed and we drank and then we started arguing.
Is this woman crazy, who’s ever ready to be parents? Especially me and Emily, we are the furthest things from ready. We both like to have fun, we like our single lifestyle, and now we’re going to be staying at home taking care of a baby.
I thought only women went baby-book shopping and then men read them unwillingly.
It was a mistake right? I don’t mean the pregnancy, obviously that was a mistake but having sex with Emily, was that a mistake? If I enjoyed it, wasn’t it worth it? Besides the pleasure, Emily and I are spending more time together, and I’m starting to realize she isn’t that bad. Sometimes she infuriates me, but she also makes me laugh.
“Just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” He replies, and sits next to me.
If I had run into Emily on the street before this whole ordeal and was with someone from work, I would have introduced her as my friend—but I never gave her a Christmas present. Maybe it was because I didn’t really like her until now.
What will I do when Hugo is married? I can’t just tag along, being part of the family just because I gave birth to number 19.
she deserves someone great. Someone who will love her and treat her well and understand her humour. Someone who will love the baby like his own child.
I can’t think like that because it will never happen. I’m not going to fall for him like half the female population already has. I’m not going to be another notch on his bedpost...if he still does that.
Why has the entire theme of this weekend been about how babies make life miserable?
I don’t need a husband thank you very much.
And when I’m not thinking of that little frown, I’m thinking about Emily’s smile, or her chocolate hair, or harmonious laugh.
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