She climbs into bed and wriggles between us, her small sturdy body still warm from sleep. I hug her to me, she squirms away and pats my face. "Breakfast time, Mama?"
Joe rolls over and pulls the covers over his head. I ask for just a moment but she pulls the blankets from me and pats my face again.
I manage to get my legs out of bed, feet on the floor. Stumbling to the dresser I hear "Mama, there are holes in your undies."
"I know sweetie, they're just old."
"Maybe your vagina got too fat."
"That's not what happened!"
"Mama, how come your vagina has a mustache?"
I turn to the bed. She's not paying attention anymore, but struggling to unwrap the shaking, snorting lump that is her father. I shake my head and leave the room.
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