Yesterday, a coworker caught me in the stairwell and asked me how things were going with Ty. My voice, usually on the deeper end of the scale, went up a couple of octaves (a sure sign that I'm not being particularly honest) as I said "Things are going very well!". We chatted for a moment, my face ready to crack under the pressure of my false smile. We (she) joked about toddlers and their tendency to screech in public places, and she reminded me that "potty training is coming soon!" Luckily, before my jaws disintegrated and my face melted away, showing the grimace underneath, we were interrupted by another coworker. I said my goodbyes and made a quick exit.
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