I knew we were in trouble before we left the house as I wobbled on one foot in the kitchen, pulling the strap of my sandal over the other with one hand, while simultaneously tossing the breakfast dishes into the sink. Ruby’s clear plastic cup with the floating monkeys and bananas and glitter hit the inside of the wash bin, splashing orange juice on the counter and down the front of the cabinet beneath it. “Shit,” I grumbled as I grabbd the sponge to mop up the mess.
While we were getting ready to take a bath this morning:
“I love you.”
“Well, I love you more.”
“And I like your vagina hair. It doesn’t touch my butt anymore. ”