#saffronmohinder

"-and maybe it's the perfect time to have a baby! We were going to use the spare room as a studio, but-"

"You are not ready to have a baby, Baz."

"You have a baby! And you're only two years older than me."

"I'm also married? And we have a house."

*honk*

"I suppose I'll get have to convince the carpool to stop for coffee."

"mmMm-"

"I'm going to be such a great uncle."

"Sure."

"A cool uncle. The kind of uncle that gives the baby a little cocaine, for a treat."

"Nope!"

"To the surprise of exactly no one, I have written something for the occasion - don't groan!

-when you lift up the pan with the scrambled eggs (and cottage cheese and dried peas and hot sauce) (strange) (delightful) I darted in behind you to check the burner and turned the knob all the way to 'off' we scoop the eggs out of the pan and onto toast so no one has to wash dishes, we look for the glasses you misplaced (in the fridge) (with the lenses fogged up) (and I write a small poem about fogged windows in winter) (i write a small poem about forgotten things)

and I braid your hair for you (dark, soft, thick as cat's fur) (the loveliest sheen to it) and I go to work and you go to work and the dog goes to work (destroying the yard) we kiss hello (hello again) when we come home and I stay up half the night stargazing until you come out and pretend to coax me into responsible sleeping habits but you have a thermos of spiced chocolate and a blanket big enough for two and you're fooling no one and we sit in the cold sand and make up grand, fantastic, extravagant adventures constellations - the sort of adventures that inspired epic poems - -the poem I should write- -the poems I will write- but my favorite poem will always when I brush my teeth next to you.

"Do I do great work, or what?"

"You really do."

"Are you nervous?"