So we took the girls to the park for our nightly let’s see if we can get mom to break her belly exercise. I was on the swings with Briar and a boy, maybe about seven, pedaled his bike over to us.
“I thought I was the only one here,” he said looking up at the sky.
Briar began to preen and blush on her swing, “What’s that kid doing?”
“He’s riding his bike,” I told her with a smile, feeling mostly charmed by the playground flirtation.
He rolled back and forth on his bike for a minute, never looking at us and then saying, “You are pregnant. You are going to have a baby.”
I looked at him smiling, “Yes, I am.”
Briar watched him from her swing and he continued sitting on his bike not looking at us, then he cleared his throat and looked at me. I smiled.
“When you have that baby it is going to be painful,” he said this in almost hushed tones and looked at me with heavy eyes.
I nodded and smiled, “But it is so worth it.”
The look he gave me as he pedaled away made it clear that he thought I had the sense of a shit house rat.