Once Mia came into the world, nobody offered a hand. It was just me dealing with a tiny infant, dirty plates, heaps of clothes, and physical pain.
One time, I begged Helen to keep an eye on Mia for just an hour since my surgical wounds throbbed so hard that I feared I was having a medical emergency.
“Do I look like a babysitter to you?” she replied without even raising her eyes.
Ethan chimed in, “A kid really needs their mom.”
So I packed up my tiny baby and drove to the clinic all by myself.
Four weeks passed, and everything blew up over thirty bucks.
Ethan walked inside from the garage space, and I asked, “Could you hand me $30 to buy some formula?”
He let out a chuckle. “Where did all your saved cash go?”
“You promised to provide for us, Ethan.”
“Not for everything,” he shot back sharply.
