Hunter Moran Digs Deep (2014)
“William is drawing a fake tattoo on his arm, while Linny and her friend Becca drag tables and chairs around in the yard, whispering to each other . . . as if we care about their private stuff.
The tattoo finished, completely smudged, William paints something across his wrist—who knows what . . . a cougar, maybe. But I can’t concentrate on that, I have hardly any breath left from that balloon blowing, or from rushing to rescue K.G., screaming from her crib upstairs.
I run up to grab her. “Hey, K...iller Godzilla,” I say, carrying her down to see what’s going on. She needs a diaper change desperately, but I’m ignoring that.
If we can figure things out, if we end up being rich, I’ll hire someone. All he’ll have to do is change diapers, dozens of them every few minutes.
And the party begins. Half the neighborhood is here to sing around Mom’s lopsided cake: “Happy birthday, dear Fred, happy birthday to you.” Sarah Yulefski is the loudest, her chocolate-milk mustache quivering.MoreLess
The tattoo finished, completely smudged, William paints something across his wrist—who knows what . . . a cougar, maybe. But I can’t concentrate on that, I have hardly any breath left from that balloon blowing, or from rushing to rescue K.G., screaming from her crib upstairs.
I run up to grab her. “Hey, K...iller Godzilla,” I say, carrying her down to see what’s going on. She needs a diaper change desperately, but I’m ignoring that.
If we can figure things out, if we end up being rich, I’ll hire someone. All he’ll have to do is change diapers, dozens of them every few minutes.
And the party begins. Half the neighborhood is here to sing around Mom’s lopsided cake: “Happy birthday, dear Fred, happy birthday to you.” Sarah Yulefski is the loudest, her chocolate-milk mustache quivering.MoreLess
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