I used to go to parties, or Party? and now I scrub almond butter off of plates that have already been through the dishwasher. I went to Prague once and bought a necklace on Charles Bridge and now I find almond butter from my son’s breakfast in my ear. I have a Master’s degree but I still impulsively put his poopy clothes into the washing machine with my own so going forward, I’ll smell vaguely of shit sometimes, and always wonder if it’s me or him, or all of us. I used to wonder what my future would be and now I’m in it. I once felt alone and now I never am, if no one is home, there’s their laundry to fold. I used to worry about planes crashing and now it’s their colds and milestones, at night I look at their pictures and dip into my love for them, like I used to look at pictures of islands or boys. My phone is sticky, there’s something on it, it’s on my fingers too, and under my nails. I don’t need to taste it to know what it is.