smokeyal8r called me last night. She is knocked up. I shrieked and wow’ed. Her larva will be produced, in theory, the day after Bridgette’s birthday, early September. I talked with her a bit, and she explained that, yes, she knows how it happened. And she knows for sure who the mother is.
Othello and I discussed, at length, what colors to paint the child, and in what patterns. Plaid, we feel, would not do a person that short and round justice, but paisley should be attractive in a ’60s sort of way. We’re also working on recipes for when the child is plumped up a bit.
Lots of emotional by-play, but I haven’t time. More, undoubtedly, later.
Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry