So Franny, guess what...
So I'd spent the day in total denial, but finally alone with my thoughts on the drive home from work, I faced reality.
"I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. Does my insurance cover this? I drank a whole lotta booze 2 weeks ago so the baby will be retarded. When will I find out how retarded he is? Does my insurance cover retarded? What if Franny dies in traffic and I end up having a bastard baby. Wait, is the baby a bastard anyway since we aren't married? Jesus shit! I'm having a bastard baby. Does my health insurance cover bastard? Goodbye youth. It's been fun kind of."
I walked into Franny's house, and by this time I was in tears.
He hugged me and asked what was wrong. I hiccuped that I was pregnant. This is what I remember of the conversation:
Me-"I'm pregnant."
Fran-"Well why are you crying, babe?"
Me-"Uhhh, because I'm pregnant!"
Fran-"I'm stoked. I thought you might be pregnant. You've been acting pregnant lately."
Me-"What in the hell are you talking about?"
Fran-"I'm a cocksman."
Me-(smiling) "Ass."
Fran- "I love you."
Me- "I love you too."
Fran- "We're going to be fine."
Me- "I know."
Franny is the best at chilling me the hell out if needed. He always says the right thing. We talked for a while longer, and finally I was content to just fall asleep. I woke up the next morning all broken-out and puffy from the crying but with a totally new outlook. I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My reflection made me cringe a little and I sarcastically said "you're one hot mama." I realized immediately after saying it, that it was true (except for the hot part.)
No comments:
Post a Comment