These things catch my eye from the side and I turn, always turn, to see the toddler in a stroller smiling and grabbing at things, or the infant laid back half sleeping in a hand carried package.
In Barnes and Noble today, at my corner a metal edge that might have been a satchel of child somehow but proved only to be a hand-pulled cart;
Let the babies go, I told myself. They aren't going to be yours. You haven't led the kind of life that leads to babies.
Tonight I realized my there is such a thing as too much ice cream, two nights of little sleep with a concert in between knocks me flat on my ass, and I don't want the bed all to myself anymore.