snarled. “That’s five years away, asshat.”
“No!” I was on my feet, too, and as I stepped forward Sinclair’s hand closed over my biceps and he gave a not-especially-gentle yank backward. “That is my word. You’re not allowed to use that word. Take it back!”
The State of Minnesota, it must be said, was disturbingly laid-back about naming babies. I guess they figured that the mom in question had just squeezed a human (in Jessica’s case, twoof the li’l suckers) out of her body, so maybe cut her some slack on paperwork?
The babies had to be registered within five days, not necessarily named. And all the naming chaos aside, the question I couldn’t avoid: registered for what ? Register is a noun and a verb: we sign guest registers, we register for wedding gifts and domain names, we register cars and boats, we register to vote and when we hit a mountain summit . . . and now we register babies, I guess? Good God, for what ? What weird creepy thing did they need a statewide baby register for?
Anyway, if you register the babies but haven’t named them within those five days, Baby Girl Berry and Baby Boy Berry were the names that went on the dotted line. Jess and Nick then had forty-five days to change Baby Boy and Baby Girl to anything , for the love of God, just pick something ! If they waited longer than forty-five days, they had to pay extra.
Needless to say, Jess and DadDick didn’t give a tin shit about what they had to pay. Also, when had I become surrounded almost entirely by millionaires? That was troubling, because it meant I was the white trash of the mansion. Hell, the neighborhood; this was Summit Avenue in St. Paul. The governor’s mansion was across the street! How had I let that happen?
Anyway, it had been weeks and the babies were still Frick and Frack. Or whatever we were calling them that day. Salt and Pepper hadn’t gone over well, probably because of the whole biracial thing. Sprite and 7-Up were greeted with derision bordering on rage. The reaction to Rocky and Bullwinkle will never be spoken of again, though DadDick did take me aside to quietly mention he thought Batman and Robin were the best so far. My faves: little Manolo and little Blahnik.
“Are we fighting about your hallucination, you bugging my mom for no reason, Sharpie ink, or how much you hate government paperwork?” I asked, trying and failing to wrest myself from Sinclair’s clawlike grip. The man hung on like a velociraptor. “Because with all the yelling I can’t deny I might have lost track! Which makes me even madder!”
“We’re talking about deflection as it relates to the modern vampire queen.” Marc, piping up helpfully, got a double glare from Jess and me.
“No, we’re talking about how Betsy puts the dumb in dumbass,” Jessica snapped.
“That doesn’t even make sense!” was my outraged rebuttal, followed with the ever-intellectual, “and you have barf in your eyebrows!”
“Oh.” DadDick, who’d been holding Jess back, peeked around her, let go with one hand, rubbed his thumb across her left eyebrow, then said, “It’s just a little spit-up.”
“Gross,” was my revolted comment. I know. I was being a megabitch. Realizing it didn’t make me want to behave, though; it just made me as mad at myself as I was at her.
“I just had two babies!”
“We know . ” I threw my hands up in the air. “It’s all you talk about. And what, being a new mom means you don’t have five seconds to look in the mirror?”
“Yes,” she replied, relaxing in DadDick’s grip. “That’s exactly right. I don’t expect you to get it.”
I groaned. “Oh, please. Not this again. Come on. Come on. Please not with the ‘I as a parent now understand all the mysteries of the universe, which you, poor babyless imbecile, will never, ever be able to grasp with your babyless mind and which is why your poor babyless existence is forever doomed to be unfulfilling, you poor idiot.’”
“Well.” Jess
“No!” I was on my feet, too, and as I stepped forward Sinclair’s hand closed over my biceps and he gave a not-especially-gentle yank backward. “That is my word. You’re not allowed to use that word. Take it back!”
The State of Minnesota, it must be said, was disturbingly laid-back about naming babies. I guess they figured that the mom in question had just squeezed a human (in Jessica’s case, twoof the li’l suckers) out of her body, so maybe cut her some slack on paperwork?
The babies had to be registered within five days, not necessarily named. And all the naming chaos aside, the question I couldn’t avoid: registered for what ? Register is a noun and a verb: we sign guest registers, we register for wedding gifts and domain names, we register cars and boats, we register to vote and when we hit a mountain summit . . . and now we register babies, I guess? Good God, for what ? What weird creepy thing did they need a statewide baby register for?
Anyway, if you register the babies but haven’t named them within those five days, Baby Girl Berry and Baby Boy Berry were the names that went on the dotted line. Jess and Nick then had forty-five days to change Baby Boy and Baby Girl to anything , for the love of God, just pick something ! If they waited longer than forty-five days, they had to pay extra.
Needless to say, Jess and DadDick didn’t give a tin shit about what they had to pay. Also, when had I become surrounded almost entirely by millionaires? That was troubling, because it meant I was the white trash of the mansion. Hell, the neighborhood; this was Summit Avenue in St. Paul. The governor’s mansion was across the street! How had I let that happen?
Anyway, it had been weeks and the babies were still Frick and Frack. Or whatever we were calling them that day. Salt and Pepper hadn’t gone over well, probably because of the whole biracial thing. Sprite and 7-Up were greeted with derision bordering on rage. The reaction to Rocky and Bullwinkle will never be spoken of again, though DadDick did take me aside to quietly mention he thought Batman and Robin were the best so far. My faves: little Manolo and little Blahnik.
“Are we fighting about your hallucination, you bugging my mom for no reason, Sharpie ink, or how much you hate government paperwork?” I asked, trying and failing to wrest myself from Sinclair’s clawlike grip. The man hung on like a velociraptor. “Because with all the yelling I can’t deny I might have lost track! Which makes me even madder!”
“We’re talking about deflection as it relates to the modern vampire queen.” Marc, piping up helpfully, got a double glare from Jess and me.
“No, we’re talking about how Betsy puts the dumb in dumbass,” Jessica snapped.
“That doesn’t even make sense!” was my outraged rebuttal, followed with the ever-intellectual, “and you have barf in your eyebrows!”
“Oh.” DadDick, who’d been holding Jess back, peeked around her, let go with one hand, rubbed his thumb across her left eyebrow, then said, “It’s just a little spit-up.”
“Gross,” was my revolted comment. I know. I was being a megabitch. Realizing it didn’t make me want to behave, though; it just made me as mad at myself as I was at her.
“I just had two babies!”
“We know . ” I threw my hands up in the air. “It’s all you talk about. And what, being a new mom means you don’t have five seconds to look in the mirror?”
“Yes,” she replied, relaxing in DadDick’s grip. “That’s exactly right. I don’t expect you to get it.”
I groaned. “Oh, please. Not this again. Come on. Come on. Please not with the ‘I as a parent now understand all the mysteries of the universe, which you, poor babyless imbecile, will never, ever be able to grasp with your babyless mind and which is why your poor babyless existence is forever doomed to be unfulfilling, you poor idiot.’”
“Well.” Jess
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