Art by I. Williams '21
Spilt milk. Chins up, girls! There’s always more milk in the fridge.
Low grades. Please don’t cry, honey. You’ll still get into college. Struggling for a C means more than breezing by with an A and regardless, I’ll always be proud of you!
Unwanted holiday gifts. I’m sure you’ll learn to appreciate those socks more — I mean, I absolutely loved the CookingFriend Ultra Power 6.5-Speed Semi-Automatic Blender (Batteries Not Included) that your father got me. It’s not like I haven’t had time to cook a family dinner in years. I can barely carve out time for myself.
The underwear you find in your bed, which definitely isn’t yours. What is this? Please don’t lie to me, it’s been bothering me all day.
College rejection letters. Well, maybe that C wasn’t great.
Weekend “business” trips to Fiji. Harry, you were fired three years ago. Why do you still go away every month? Oh God, Harry. Tell me it isn’t true.
Death. Grandma lived a good life, kids.
Your husband’s mistress, Nadia. You’ve ruined twenty years of marriage, Harry. No, I won’t listen. You’re disgusting. She’s our daughter’s age!
The Office leaving Netflix. They’re still on DVD.
Tainted wedding vows. Did you even mean what you said at our wedding? I’ll never trust you again. You brought her into our bed!
The divorce proceedings. Fuck you, Harry. You’ve soiled my pride and destroyed my happiness, at least let me have the kids.
Losing the kids. Girls, mommy loves you. I’ll see you soon, I promise.
Your dead ex-husband. He’s dead, you say? How? Thirty-eight puncture wounds straight to the testicles? What a shame.
Spilt “milk.”