Tag Archives: babies

Fiction: Midnight (138 words)

“Hush, little baby, Don’t make a sound,” Zachary sang softly, dancing around in a small circle, cradling his two month old. “Momma’s gone to bed and we don’t want her to wake up,” He continued, his impromptu song falling off the rhythm he’d started with.

Emma didn’t seem to notice, though.  The sound of her dad’s voice, no matter how off key, seemed to be enough to keep her quiet.  Zach was tired, of course he was, but he knew it was nothing to the couple of weeks his wife had been suffering through.

So, he held Emma close and continued to sing off key.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ball dropping in times square on the muted TV.  “A new year, Miss Emma,” he smiled, “Things can only go up from here.”

Leave a comment

Posted by on May 3, 2016 in Stories


Tags: , , ,

Fiction: It Finally Happened (141 words)

Well, it’s finally happened.  Colin finally messed up and got somebody pregnant.  Well, it was only a matter of time with the man’s complete and utter inability to keep it in his pants—between the on again and off again with Mara and his rebound fucks with Diane—yeah—it was a statistical inevitability.

But, goodness, am I glad it was Mara.  This seemed to be a grounding point—maybe they’ll have a real relationship now.  If he had knocked up Diane this would have all become way too soap opera for me.  Besides this team has more than its fair share of drama.

But no, it was Mara.  So Colin’s leaving the team to be a father.  I’ll be sad to see him go—but I’m glad he’s not leaving the way that Mara did.  That would be too tragic.

Leave a comment

Posted by on February 29, 2016 in Stories


Tags: , ,

Fiction: Green is a Gender Neutral Color (340 words)

“We never should have gotten married,” Joe complained weakly, turning the package he’d just received from his mother so that Wendy could take a look at it.

“Oh god,” Wendy laughed, lifting the little green infant onesie out of the box.   “Your mom isn’t exactly a subtle woman, is she?”

“No.  To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t just call us, scream ‘I want grandbabies!’ into the receiver and hang up again.”  He took the garment back, folding it carefully like it might explode with any sudden movements, and placed it gently into the box again.

“So, all those times we’ve told her that we don’t plan on having kids, that we don’t want kids, that we are nothing having kids at any point in the future…” Wendy let herself trail off.

“In one ear, out the other,” Joe sighed, shoving the box onto the top shelf of the linen closet. “When she comes to visit next month, there will be a lot of pointed questions.  We also need to make sure that she can’t find the condoms because she will bring her own sewing needles to stab through them.”

“She wouldn’t, would she?” The look Joe gave her as he lead the way into the kitchen was a little bit terrifying.  “Okay, she would.”

“She’s actually quite angry that we haven’t already announced a pregnancy.  She won’t say it to you outright, because she doesn’t want to offend your fertility. But—yeah.”

“I guess that’s what we get for getting married so suddenly after six years.  Everyone and their cousin is probably waiting for the shotgun pregnancy announcement.”

Joe pulled down the glasses as she scoffed.  “Well, they can just keep on waiting.  That’s their punishment for not listening when we said loudly and in no uncertain terms that we are not having children at all.”  Joe handed Wendy her drink.

She took a long sip of the strong wine that a pregnant woman would not be at all allowed to drink.  “Here’s to that,” she agreed cheerily.

Leave a comment

Posted by on December 8, 2015 in Stories


Tags: , , , ,

Fiction: Little Kicks (300 words)

She guided his hand along her stomach, following the movements of the little foot pushing against her insides.   She tried not to laugh at the way his mouth was hanging open, and his eyes were as big as saucers.  It was kind of a big deal to feel one’s kid moving for the first time, and if he was taking it easily in stride, she might have been a little bit upset by that.

“That’s our baby?” He asked stupidly before giving himself a little shake.  “Of course that’s our baby. What else is living in your pregnant stomach and kicking?”

“It’s okay. Sympathetic pregnancy brain,” She teased, kissing him gently on the forehead. “It is a kind of amazing feeling though, isn’t it?” He nodded, his mouth still open, moving his hand on his own, tracing her now still stomach for another feeling of the child’s kick. “I think he’s gone to sleep for now.”

“He?” Aden looked up at her, finally pulling his hand away from her belly. “Do you know something I don’t?”

She shrugged, “Not officially.  Just a gut feeling.  But I could be wrong, it’s my first kid. How do I know the difference between a boy and a girl?”

“He.  A little boy. That’d be nice. Of course, a little girl would be okay too. A Little anything, as long as it breathes and kicks and makes our lives so miserable that we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He rested his ear against her stomach, smiling up at her. She rolled her eyes.  “You’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t have me any other way.”  He grinned like the cat that got the canary, and she reached out to ruffle his hair affectionately. He was right. She wouldn’t have him any other way.

Leave a comment

Posted by on January 24, 2015 in Stories


Tags: , , , ,

Fiction: The Family Way Part 22 (415 words)


“Hah. No.”




“As in the naked mole rat?  Come on.”


“Are you even trying anymore, Avery? Or are you just trying to piss me off?”

Marta and I were laying on the floor in the living room, the tops of our heads touching, next to our bargain couch.   Marta had decided that it was more comfortable to be laying on the hard floor than it was to be in sinking couch. Then I felt weird sitting on the couch while she sat on the floor. Over time, we just ended up laying like this.

I’d been bouncing baby names off her all week, trying to figure out what we were going to call the little guy, and everyone had been met with a scoff of derision—so, yeah, maybe I was trying to piss her off a little bit.  What’s a girl to do?

“I don’t know—Mar? What were you thinking?”

“Uh—something Regal, I guess.  Something that sounds strong.”

“What? Like Henry or George?”



“Uh. Maybe, but no.”


“Ugh. No.”

“Marta, throw me a bone here.  I’m running out of kings I can name off the top of my head.” I pulled myself up so I was sitting crisscross applesauce, looking down at her.  “You don’t have any ideas for names other than shooting down my names?”

“Not really. I just…”  Marta gave an awkward shrug as best she could as she laid there.  “We’ve got time, right?  We’ve still got a couple of months before we have to—“  Marta made a face, and looked up at me with a frown.  “Avery, is it stupid for me to want one of his names to be Dad’s?”

I smiled at her, brushing a piece of hair off her face. “No, of course not, Mar. He’s our dad. He was a good dad, even if we didn’t agree with everything.” I laughed a little in spite of myself, “I don’t think we could have tolerated eighteen years of Mom without Dad, right?” Marta chuckled too and gave me a nod.  “And hey—it’s my middle name too, right? So—if some time in the future Dad really pisses us off, we can pretend that he wasn’t part of this equation.  We just named him after me.”

“That’s true.  It is your middle name too.  Let’s make it his.  Something Martin Andersson.”

“Aw, Little Baby Something. I like it. We can agree on that one.”

Marta fixed me with a cold stare.  “No.”

Leave a comment

Posted by on June 24, 2014 in Avery and Marta


Tags: , , , , ,