The ladies in the office compared engagement rings. Estelle’s was obviously the biggest. Her ring shimmered so hard that it glowed in the dark.
Gertrude had no ring.
She explained at lunch: “My fiancé went into an active war zone to procure me a dinosaur skull. He stuffed it with flowers that smelled like the exhales of corpses.”
“Some people give birth in bathtubs. I intend to have our child in my dinosaur’s waiting jaws. Swaddled with fabric, of course.”
The women in her office chewed their take-out. Their eyes skittered back to Estelle.
“So anyway,” Estelle said at last, “what’s everyone doing this weekend?”
Estelle’s ring glimmered against the break room walls.
The ladies had never seen anything so beautiful.
I don’t understand the Polar Vortex. Does it or does it not have something to do with global warming?
When people get all up-in-arms about meteorology (“climate change: is it real?”), I’m like, “Hey, I’m not having kids that’ll have to live through that, so… best of luck. Hopefully I’ll kick it before that really manifests. You guys should really do something about that, I guess.”
Speaking of worldwide weather catastrophe…
Jurassic Park is wrong. Real velociraptors would actually only go up to your elbow, and they’re actually covered in feathers.
Fact: T-Rex hates pushups.
Related: Can we take a second and talk about the thing I almost bought my husband for V-Day?
Do I get anything resembling “grown-up points” for passing this up? I decided it was only 2 feet tall; and if I was going to get a lawn dinosaur, I’d need to go bigger.