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Maybe he was, and he’s just chill with the human body? I don’t know about y’all but I’m done with doing this much work around men behaving badly. That’s enough to block him from your life if you want to without any further communication or work on your part.
I think there are two questions women can ask themselves when a man does something that creeps them out that are way better than “but did he MEAN IT-mean it”: This week has felt like a century.
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I shhhh and pat and bounce and comfort and offer pacifiers.
We walk through the tall grasses and waving queen anne’s lace. One’s toddler voice blends with the chatter of tree swallows.
I’m kinda hungry.” I watch as Brett awkwardly clicks the massive carseat into place, sweating in the July heat. I put One down so I can shovel some chicken salad into my mouth. And once he gets a good nap, his mood will improve, and he’ll sleep better tonight, and sleep begets sleep, and I’ll sleep, and before I know it, I’ll have my life back.
I wedge myself as close to the carseat as possible, and as soon as One makes the slightest mew, I shove my crooked pinky into his mouth. Shouldn’t we take some sort of parenting entrance exam first to ensure we’re really equipped with the knowledge and ability to keep a 6.7 pound infant alive? After 27 blissful seconds of physical autonomy, One whimpers. I bump over the back roads, desperate for the smoothness of the highway. “We’ve got to laugh or break our hearts in this damnable world.” I fold down the corner of the page to gaze at the bright pink of the cosmos dancing with the brilliant blue of forget-me-knots.
I repeat it back, to assure him I’ve heard and understood him.