Happy Anniversary

“Our anniversary’s coming up,” George says. “First was paper. What’s second?”

“Poop,” I say cheekily.

George laughs.

“It’s cotton…Seriously, can we skip the gifts this year?” I say, daunted by the thought of coming up with a decent gift made of cotton.

George jokes, “Get me a pack of tube socks from Apu.” (Apu is the nice man who sells socks outside the corner deli.)

“I’ll take a few more nursing bras,” I laugh.

“Ah, the bloom is off the rose,” George says with a flourish.

“Really, Claire is our gift this year,” I say wistfully.

“She’s not made of cotton,” George says.

“She makes a lot of poop. Let’s stick with poop,” I say.

“The bloom is truly off the rose…”