At the end of my pregnancy, I kept having my doctor reassure me that the craziest things were “perfectly normal.” “Doc, I look like I’m walking on two enormous marshmallows instead of feet, I’m hungry all the time but can’t eat without severe heartburn, and I get winded walking more than ten feet. Also, I'm speaking…

“So… you’re still abortion-minded, even if you happen to be tubally pregnant?” she asked.

Once, an 8-top of Christians left one of those “Here’s a Tip for You!” pamphlets on my table, in lieu of a cash tip. I was sort of used to this, so I didn’t remark much, just tossed it into the bus tub with the rest of the debris, and a glower.

If tomorrow all my things were gone

I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know my cheddar biscuits will be free. And I won't forget the men who died, so I can bitch about automatic gratuity.