Futures and Frosting

Oh no she DIDN’T!

I stand there for a few minutes with my mouth hanging open in shock while the other Stepford mothers get on the “you’re a shitty parent” bandwagon and nod their agreements. These women are real pieces of work. I mean, I would totally talk about you behind your back, but I’d never be that mean and bitchy to your face or say something to hurt your feelings.

Until now.

You bitches messed with the wrong pregnant woman.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you cornered the market on perfect parenting. Isn’t that your son sitting on the floor over there eating his boogers and naming his farts? Real genius you’ve got on your hands there. And you,” I say, turning to one of the other ones. “Your kid told me when he got here that he wasn’t allowed to eat processed sugar, white flower, red dye number five, or watch Spongebob because it was too violent. Isn’t he the one sitting on the chair by the door rocking back and forth chanting ‘I hate humans’? My child may be mouthy, and he may say inappropriate things from time to time, but I am a damn good mother. I just found out today my son scored higher on his kindergarten testing than all of your little f**kwits put together. He may watch Spongebob, he may eat sugar, and he may pick up on phrases the adults around him say, but I can guarantee you that when he’s older, you won’t find a human head in his freezer like little Johnny over there who’s been banging his head against the glass for an hour because he’s in shock from having a piece of cake for the first time in his life. And for your information, real people do actually talk like this. Really cool people who have awesome friends don’t have giant sticks up their asses like you obviously do.”

Carter leans close to my ear. “Gavin scored that well on his testing?”

“I know, total shocker for me too. He obviously doesn’t get his brains from us,” I whisper to him.

I turned back and realized all of the women have dispersed from our fun little pow-pow, grabbed their kids, and scurried out the door without another word.

“Oh and by the way, we should probably look into some new preschools,” I state.

21. I Swallowed a Penny!

“What do you mean you aren’t going to do it?” Liz screeches. “Carter, we’ve been planning this for weeks. You HAVE to do it.”

Liz and I are in the kitchen of the shop doing dishes while Claire is out front with everyone else taking down decorations.

I know Liz means well, but I just can’t do what she wants me to.

“Liz, this just doesn’t feel right. It was a great idea before she got pregnant, but I just can’t do this now. Claire hasn’t been herself since she found out she was pregnant. No matter how many times I try and tell her that everything will be fine, I don’t think she believes me. If you hadn’t told me what you did about her being afraid I didn’t want to marry her, I would have thought she was cheating on me,” I say.

“Um, dude. She’s got your sperm inside of her. That would be gross. And if you were so worried, why the hell haven’t you proposed yet?” Liz questions.

“Because you told me you’d cut off my dick if I did!” I argue.

“Okay, that may have been a little extreme. But I knew she would think you were doing it just because she was pregnant. I figured if you waited a while and I kept telling her she was an idiot, everything would work out and you could propose without her thinking bad things.”

I sigh and crossed her arms in front of me. “I can’t wait any longer, Liz. I know we planned on me doing this next month on the anniversary of when we first met, but I can’t put this off one more day. There is this huge wedge between us right now and I have a feeling it’s all because of this. I should have just said something to her months ago. To hell with the surprise.”

“Fine. Have it your way. But I swear to God if you just walk up to her and hand her the ring, I won’t cut your dick off, I’ll just cut one ball off. You’ll be forever known as Uniball Carter,” she warns.

We stare at each other for a few minutes, her eyes narrowing with each second that passed.

“You don’t have a plan, do you?” she finally asks.

I should tell her to move away from the knives.

“Um, not exactly. I mean, I know what I want to say. I just don’t have all of the details yet,” I admit.

“Well, I’d help you, but I kind of want to punch you in the face. You’re on your own with this one,” she tells me, throwing the towel she dried the dishes with onto the counter. “Now I’m going to have to tell everyone that the plan is off. It was the one time I was looking forward to wearing a shirt that Drew picked out.”

I feel bad that Liz has spent all this time helping me plan something amazing for Claire. At the time, we had both agreed it would be awesome if our friends were there to see the proposal, and Drew of course wanted everyone to wear matching shirts that Claire would see right after I proposed. They were pretty great shirts and that is the one thing I will regret not doing, but I know this is the right decision.

“So does that mean no Gavin either?” she asks as she leans her hip against the counter.

“No, no Gavin. As cute as it would be for him to be the one to hand her the ring, I need to do this by myself. It was just the two of us the day I met her, and I want it to be just the two of us when I ask her to spend the rest of her life with me,” I explain.

Liz let out a great big sigh and finally concedes. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">