Fiction: Parenting (461 words)

28 Mar

Okay, I’ll admit I’ve considered being a mother before. But I never really had the time, nor the man, with which to be a mother. After all, you don’t get to my position by having a lot of free time or really checking out the dating pool.  And now that I was in charge of the City, the first civilian leader ever, I was pretty sure that children were not in my future.

Which sucked, because I finally found a guy worth having kids with.

John Sharpe would be a great dad for my fictional children. I mean, first of all, he’s not a bad-looking guy. I am not too bad-looking (if I may say so myself), so any kids we had wouldn’t be bad-looking either. I am not saying that they’d be drop dead gorgeous, but they wouldn’t be monsters.

But genetics aren’t the only reason I would choose him to be a father to the children I will probably never have. He would be a good father in a loving way. In a way, he’s kind of like a child himself, so he would not have trouble dropping to a kid’s level to play. He’s strong, caring, and sympathetic when necessary, but at same time, he could be stern when it’s required. He’s smart and talented enough to teach any child of ours anything he or she wanted to know, or any talent he/she wanted to gain.

The only down side is that whole, running off on potential suicide missions to save the City. He would have to cut back on a few of those. But other than that he was pretty much perfect.

Yes, last Friday night I officially decided that John Sharpe would be the perfect father for my children.

So imagine my surprise on Saturday night, as I was lying in bed next to John, I heard him whisper, “Children?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Children, Elizabeth. How do you feel about children?”

“Well, in general I like them, any particular reason for asking?”

“Elizabeth, how would you feel about our children?”

“John Sharpe, are you trying to tell me you are pregnant?”

“No, of course not. What I am trying to ask is: Would you like to be?”

“Pregnant? With your child?”

“Preferably mine. If it’s not mine, please, just don’t tell me.”

“Like, how soon are we talking? Now? In a week? A year? Five years?”

“Whenever you want. Or never, if you prefer. I just needed to know, and you never know until you ask, right?”


“Yes, you never know until you ask, or yes…”

“Yes, I want children. Now.”


“Yes, now. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, okay. Do you think we can handle being parents?”

“Well, We’ll find out one way or another.”

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Posted by on March 28, 2015 in Stories


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