Fictionalized Interactions with the Son I’m Never Going to Have
“Hey Dad, whatever happened to Anne Geddes?”
I knew this day would come.
“Well, son, after fifteen years, all of the possible combinations of babies and flora had been exhausted. Now she just trawls bowling alley parking lots like a normal pervert.”
“Thanks, Dad. Can I borrow the Focus?”
“After you finish your ham, Cooper. After you finish your ham.”
