A Giggle At the Expense of Tim

There are times when a precious tidbit of information bubbles up, where you just want to blurt it out, but you wait until the person has finished digging their own hole.

We attended a progressive neighborhood party last night. It was fun to eat past full and I admit it was hard to pass up the cocktails and request water, but I did. A beautiful girl was in attendance, close to my height, with dark hair, Grecian features, and a shy smile. The party progressed and we meandered from house to house. I walked home a little early to relieve my mother.

An hour or so later, Tim came home flushed and happy. He had enjoyed the evening and a few cocktails. I’d had a good time, but to tell the truth I truly don’t care for the joys of early pregnancy. Exhaustion and nausea are only so fun and there are a few other symptoms that make PMS a picnic, if only due to its duration. I was a little grumpy, feeling a little frumpy, and Tim was telling me how flattered he was that the girl had been “checking him out.” I know it was just an ego stroke and we all need those on occasion, but I was aware of one little fact.

Oh, I tried to bite it back, but I just couldn’t help myself.

“Do you mean the one with dark hair?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“She’s fourteen.”

The wind left his sails and his ego deflated.

She’s a beautiful girl and I can’t envy her mother’s job.