I am that woman behind whom you hate being stuck in the checkout line at the grocery store. My cart overflows, filled with produce and meat, bread and milk, snacks and drinks. You ask if we’re having a party. I smile. No, there is no party, but three boys will eat all this in a week.
You ask, and I feel joy. I am so lucky to have someone to feed, to love.
You ask, and I feel sadness. Soon—far too soon—they’ll all be off, and you’ll no longer hate being stuck behind me in the checkout line.
Originally appeared in The Drabble on Monday, November 6, 2017.