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when to start being careful.

Oops. Don’t have to be careful.

Trey won’t be home until spring

break, and that’s still weeks away.

[Remember that ob-gyn thing?]

Yeah, yeah. I’ll get around to it,

maybe even before spring break.

Jeez, maybe I can’t get pregnant.

Maybe having a baby at seventeen

screwed up my uterus, confused

my hormones. [Wishful thinker,

aren’t you?] Anyway, I’m safe

for now. A couple fewer possibilities.

Brad Is a Little Late Tonight

Stopped to see my Mexican amigo,

he explains. Es muy bueno!

The new batch is really good.

Why is it I don’t doubt that?

As we eat dinner, my stomach

churns in anticipation. I can’t

afford to buy much, but I hope—

no, I know—he’ll be generous.

Homework, baths, then bed!

Spoken like a true dad.

We help the girls with their

assignments, hustle them off

to the tub and sweet dreams.

I even read them a bedtime story.

Once they’ve dozed off, Brad

knocks on my door. In the mood?