chocolate cake disaster

our dinner dialogue is sometimes amusing, and sometimes not.

on good days, we talk politics, listen to fantastical podcasts about comedians and economists and black culture, or scroll through a playlist on spotify meant for ‘dinner parties.’

on other days, i wouldn’t say they are bad days, just other days, we delve into more serious topics. managing millennials. what color to paint the kitchen. and whether or not we should have children.

on the whole kid thing, i created this game called ‘worst case scenario.’ it goes something like this. the worst case scenario is that we have a kid, and _fill in the blank.

he’s a sociopath. she eats live bats. he watches us when we sleep. 

and other worst cases, that maybe aren’t the worse cases, but it’s my game and my rules. he can’t read. or speak. or learn. she picks her nose and eats it. he can’t do sums in his head.

no amount of pros and cons lists will suffice.

or maybe it’s letting go of the control that we somehow believe we would have.

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