7
Gabriela, Earth
I should nap. God, my eyelids felt like they were coated with sand. Jori was sound asleep in his car seat I’d set down by the front door, and I had about an hour until he would wake up hungry. Again. Although he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of a schedule yet. I glanced at the couch longingly. I could tip over onto the soft cushions and close my eyes. Oh, the bliss. But first I had to put the groceries away or they’d spoil, then shower, perhaps do a load of laundry. The sweats I wore, although ratty, were my last clean pair, and I doubted they would survive the day.
Babies—at least my baby—were messy creatures.
Beautiful, miraculous, messy creatures.
I grabbed the two bags and carried them into the kitchen, put the eggs in the fridge. I winced, feeling the pull of the
