I gave birth to one seriously cute baby. I know all mothers say that, but P is genuinely cute. Blonde hair, blue eyes, he is exactly what I expected when I bought sperm from California.
And it’s a good thing that he is cute. Because he is a crank. He is Mr. Love and Rockets with people he knows and loves. That is: me, Jen and the cats. He cuddles and gives fat sloppy kisses. But he is pretty rude to everyone else. He just has an air of complete disinterest. If we run into somebody on the street, I will always ask him P, can you say hi to Mr. So and So? He always flatly refuses to say hi to Mr. So and So.
I really think when he grows up, he will be the type of person who people will say P is an asshole and his friends will say, No. You just have to get know him. He’s a good guy.
This week, I saw a posting on my list serve for dyke moms to meet up at the ice cream shop. I’m of opinion that you can’t have to many lesbian mothers in your life. I was so there.
Unfortunately, it turns out that P fractured his clavicle in the accident we had this week. He wasn’t just his usual curmudgeon self, he was down right embarrassing. I kept saying, he is really a sweet kid. And he is, if you are his mother or his cat.
When it was time to go, one of the couples turned to the other and intimated that they should get together during the week. They didn’t extend the invitation to me, and I wondered, is this because my kid is being a jerk?
After they left, I turned to the other mom and asked if she wanted to get together with Jen during the week. This girl is a stay at home mom, and Jen only works on the weekends. I figure I’ll send in Jen to be the ambassador for our family. Everybody loves her. P and I, we’ve got the cranky DNA.