by Meghan Quinn
She sighs heavily. “Fine, but we are not going to be those people who send out pictures of their children posed in front of a poorly painted background with their animals. We will have classy Christmas cards.”
“So we’re going to send out cards this year? You know, cards together?”
“Well, I would hope so.” She lays a gentle kiss on Kellan’s head. “We’re engaged, after all.”
“Ahhh, you finally admit it.”
“Admit that we’re engaged?” She pulls back and gives me a confused look. “Do you think I’ve been hiding it?”
“No.” I give Kellan a gentle rock with my arm. “But whenever I’ve brought up planning the wedding, you’ve said later. You kept putting it off, so I’m just making sure you’re confident with your decision.”
“Decision to marry you?” She chuckles and rests her head on my shoulder again. “I know I said some crazy things in the delivery room, but I still want to marry you. I’ve been busy. You know, pregnancy and publishing my first book and all . . .”
“But now?”
“Now I think we should start planning. Let’s not waste time though, because I want to write a sequel, and I don’t think I can handle a wedding, writing, and being a new mom all at the same time.”
“A sequel? Is it going to be about your sexy boyfriend getting you pregnant?”
She smooths down her shirt. “Maybe.”
I chuckle. “Have you checked your sales for your book?” She shakes her head against my shoulder. “Why not?”
“I’m too nervous.”
“Love, you have to check. Didn’t you have a whole promotional tour around it? What about reviews?”
“I did, but I haven’t checked my emails in a few days. With Kellan coming right after I hit publish, I haven’t had a chance to think about it, but what I do know is I want to write a sequel. I have all these ideas, and I want to get them down on paper as soon as possible. So let’s get married quickly. Three months.”
“Three months?” My brows shoot up to my hairline. “You realize where we live, right? Every decent place is probably reserved by now.”
“Then we’ll just have to get creative.” Kellan starts to whine, and even though he’s upset, watching his little lips pursing together is adorable. “I think he’s hungry.” Without thinking, Rosie takes her shirt off and unleashes her breast from her bra. I hand her our baby and marvel at the way she so easily takes him into her arms and feeds him.
“Is it weird that I’m jealous of my son right now?”
Rosie gives me a side-eye. “Keep it in your pants, Anderson. It’s going to be a long and lonely six weeks of just you and your hand.”
I tip her chin up. “You’re saying this as if I’m the one who’s going to have a problem. You’re the horny one between the two of us.”
“And you’re complaining why?”
Leaning over, a laugh escaping me, I press a firm kiss against her lips. “I’m not. Believe me, I know how lucky I am.” When I pull away, I get up to start on making dinner when Rosie pulls on my hand.
Staring at me with those expressive blue eyes, she says, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” God, I’m lucky.
“Mom, I’m not kidding, he’s an angel. A perfect angel.”
“Hard to believe, especially since I know where he came out of.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Computer on my lap, Kellan lying on my chest, and the phone balancing on my shoulder, I talk to my mom while I start going through emails.
Over one hundred. Yikes.
“It means, you were a very temperamental baby. Nothing made you happy.”
“Maybe because I was strangled by my umbilical cord for a good four months. You would be angry too. I don’t know what moms complain about. This is easy. Just latch the kid on the breast and you’re good to go.”
“Be careful, honey. You don’t want him to use you as a human pacifier.”
“That’s weird. Don’t say things like that.”
“And what about pooping. Is he pooping regularly?”
“Yes, Mom,” I answer in an annoyed tone. “He’s pooping. I actually have to get ready. Henry just got home and we’re taking Kellan to the pediatrician. The little guy is getting his penis snipped.”
“I still don’t know why you didn’t do it in the hospital.”
Kellan is a week old, and every single freaking day, I get a phone call from my mom, handing out unsolicited parenting advice and comments. And every day, I start off sweet but end the call with claws out and a snarling tooth gnawing at the phone.
“Because, we wanted the bell procedure and the hospital wouldn’t do it. So we waited. The bell method is one hundred times better for everyone.”
“Back in my day, you just snipped the skin and were done with it.”
“Yes, well, back in your day they didn’t think eating lead paint was a bad thing either, so maybe we don’t compare eras . . . okay?”
“Are you being snippy?”
I put on a big smile even though she can’t see me. “Not even in the slightest.” Henry walks through the door and scoops us both into a hug. He places a kiss on my forehead, whispers I love you, and then takes Kellan into his arms before securing him in his car seat. He’s the most amazing husband and father.
“You sound snippy, and I’m going to blame it on the hormones. After my pregnancy with you, I was all over the place. Make sure you’re taking your vitamins.”
“Take them every day, Mom.”
“And are you doing your pelvic floor exercises yet? Go for walks and tuck in that tummy. Plus Kellan needs sunshine. We don’t want him getting jaundice.”
“Yup, I know, Mom.”
Sir Licks-A-Lot jumps up on the couch and walks over to me, determination in this eyes. I know that look, it’s the same look he’s been giving me since I got home.
He. Wants. Milk.
“Don’t even think about it,” I whisper, shooing him with my hand.
He doesn’t listen, instead he jumps to the cushion behind me and leans over my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I see an orange and white paw slowly make it’s way down my chest.
“Get out of here.” I shoo him again, but the paw is persistent.
“Oh, and did you read up on those reusable diapers I sent you? You should really consider using them. They will be much better for Kellan’s skin. I used cloth diapers with you, and it saved us a lot of money.”
She has no clue how much money Henry makes.
The paw reaches my gaped shirt and before I can react, he swats my boob. Not once, not twice, but three times in rapid succession.
“Stop trying to milk me, you feline freak,” I shout whisper, pushing him off the cushion and then nudging him with my water bottle.
Halfway distracted, I absentmindedly say, “I’ll check them out.” Henry starts walking to the car. I quickly slip on my shoes and follow behind.
“And wipes, make sure you’re making your own. You never know what kind of chemicals they use when making those. Even the ones that say natural aren’t really natural.”
“Yup, okay, Mom.” Not going to happen, but it’s nice to humor her.
“And don’t forget to lotion Kellan every day.”
“Sure. Okay, got to go. Love you.”
“Always—”
I hang up and grab the diaper bag before exiting the house. I reach the car just as Henry opens the passenger door for me. He secures me at the waist and lowers his mouth to mine. “I missed you, love.”
“I missed you too.” I cup his cheek and deepen our kiss, amazed at how much I love this man. And how glad I am that he loves me.
He groans and puts a few inches between us. “Don’t kiss me like that, not when I can’t do anything about it.”
“Kiss you how? Like I love you?”
He pinches my butt, causing me to squeal. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Now get in the car. We have a circumcision to attend.”
“Rest in peace, foreskin,” I lower my head and shake. “Rest in peace.”
“I think I have phantom pains.” Henry clutches his crotch. “Don’t you hear him screaming in there?”
“No, I really don’t.” I take a sip of water from my bottle. Stay hydrated. My mom has told me at least five times a day, even sends me text messages with water emojis.
“He’s in pain, I know he is.”
“Of course he is, but it’s okay, as he’ll never remember this.”
“But . . . his penis—”
“Will be okay. And you were the one adamant about Kellan getting a circumcision. You wanted him to have a penis just like yours.”
Henry bites on his lip and nods. “I don’t want him asking why his penis is warmer than mine.”
“Warmer?” I cock an eye brow at him.
Gesturing toward his neck, Henry says, “You know, turtleneck.”
I’m about to respond when the pediatrician walks through the door. Henry stands and pleads with the doctor—I’ve never seen him so distraught . . . over a penis. “How is he?”
Dr. Melons gives Henry a soft smile. “Kellan is doing great. The nurse is just finishing up.”
“And everything went well?” I ask, standing now too, feeling weird that I’m the only one sitting.
“Very well.” Dr. Melons gestures us to sit down as she takes a seat as well. She hands us instructions on how to take care of the bell that was placed on Kellan’s penis. “Here are some steps you should take to care for Kellan’s penis. The bell should fall off in five to seven days. You can drip water around his penis, but don’t submerge it in water.”
I glance at the paper and then back at the doctor. “And what about Vaseline? Do we need to put any on him?”
“No.” Dr. Melons shakes her head. “Not with this procedure. Just look out for infection and keep water away from it.”
Henry grips my hand in his. “We can do that.”
Smiling, Dr. Melons tilts her head and motions between the two of us. “You know, you should be very proud. Kellan undoubtedly has the biggest penis I’ve ever seen for a newborn. Watch out, he’s going to be popular with the ladies.”
Errr . . .
Did she really just talk about my baby’s penis size? Isn’t that inappropriate?
And weird?
What do you say to that?
Ehh, thank you? I grew that penis myself, in my belly. It was all the pickles I ate!
I glance at Henry to give him a disturbed look when I notice the pride beaming from his eyes and the smile passing over those delicious lips of his.
Oh hell, it’s as if the doctor just complimented his penis size.
“Big penis, huh? Looks like he gets that from his father,” Henry mutters when he finally turns toward me.
I roll my eyes. “Oh really, and here I thought the big penis came from me.”
He tips my chin up. “You get to claim his nose. I get his penis.”
“Lucky me.”
Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.
Foot bouncing, phone held to my ear, I rock Kellan in his car seat and beg Henry to pick up his phone.
Everything was going so smoothly. I got in a walk this morning, I was writing, Kellan was sleeping, and The Chainsmokers were singing us both a romantic lullaby. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect start to the day.
And then I heard it.
A gurgle.
A rumble.
And then . . . an explosion.
The smell came next, assaulting my nose in seconds. Kellan pooped. But this wasn’t any normal poop, this was front-to-back poop. Belly button-to-shoulder blades poop. Not only did his excrements cover him in a revolting mustard color, but it was all over the couch too. It was like he had a T-shirt cannon in his butt and blew it at such a high velocity that it simply couldn’t only go in one direction. And do you know what he did after he let it all loose? He lightly smiled, shimmied into his soiled clothes, and went back to sleep. Yes. My son shimmied in poop.
It wasn’t his first time and I know it won’t be his last. The poop isn’t the reason why I’m sitting in the doctor’s office continuing to call Henry until he picks up the phone. Nope, it’s the bath I had to give Kellan.
I tried, I tried really hard not to get his penis in water, but would you believe he didn’t cooperate, and before I knew what was happening, his circumcision bell fell off!
Fell off!!
And floated in the water, mocking me for what a poor mother I am.
It’s day three.
It was supposed to be on for at least five days.
Can you see where the panic is coming in? I ruined his penis. Instead of a full turtleneck, he’s going to have a mock turtleneck, and I think we can all agree on those never being in style.
“Rosie,” Henry finally answers. “Is everything okay?”
Feeling breathless and on the verge of tears, I say, “It fell off. Oh, Henry, it fell off, and now he has a mock turtleneck.”
“Wait, what?”
“The bell, Henry. The bell fell off. His penis will be forever deformed.”
“Love, slow down and tell me what happened.”
Still rocking Kellan, I take deep breath and tell him about the poop explosion, the bath, the bell falling off, and how I’m now waiting for the pediatrician to come check on everything. “It doesn’t look like your penis, Henry. It has skin over the head, like a mock turtleneck. I ruined his penis.” I hold back a sob that wants to escape as my eyes well with tears. “No one is going to want to have sex with him because his penis is weird.”
“He will be able to have sex, and I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Can you leave work?”
“Unfortunately I can’t. I have two more meetings lined up.”
I press my hand to my forehead. “But his penis—”
There is a knock at the door and Dr. Melons comes in. “Hey Rosie, looks like Kellan’s bell fell off?”
She’s staring at Kellan’s file, so when I scream—because I’m in hysterics—she startles back and drops everything to the floor. “He has a mock turtleneck. It’s horrible. He pooped everywhere. I ruined his penis. He’ll never ever have sensation in his crotch again.”
Gathering herself, Dr. Melons picks up the files and sets them on the counter before washing her hands. “Let’s take a look, shall we? Can you put Kellan on the table?”
“Sure. Henry, I have to go.”
“Okay, call me after and try to be rational.”
Sneering into the phone, I say, “Don’t you tell me to be rational when your son’s penis is hanging on by a thread.”
I hang up, drop the phone in the diaper bag, and put Kellan on the table. Dr. Melons undoes his diaper and I look away, unable to take in the monstrosity I created that is now . . . his penis.
Worry seeps through my bones, as the clock above the door ticks away the seconds while Dr. Melons studies my son’s penis. A simple yes he’s going to be fine, or we should start making a prosthetic now would be appreciated. But as she examines him, she stays silent.
It isn’t until a minute passes that I finally burst. “Will he never know what it feels like to have a boner? Just tell me, did I ruin his huge penis?”
“Everything looks fine. Do you see this?” I look at Kellan. “This is just excess skin, but the head of his penis is great.”
“So the circumcision was okay even though the bell fell off early?”
“Yup, everything looks great. I’m guessing since he’s bigger in size, the bell fell off earlier, but he’s good. I’m just going to pull back his . . . oh dear.”
“What?” I flail to the table, getting a close look. “Why did you say oh dear?”
“Hmm, when I pulled the skin down to expose the head, it’s tighter than expected, and I’m a little nervous it might cut off the circulation to the head of his penis.”
I’m going to faint. Yup, look out, floor, I’m coming for you.
&nb
sp; “I can’t move the skin back. Let me get another doctor. If we can’t get this fixed, we’re going to have to rush him into surgery with a urologist.”
Oh.
My.
Hell.
Dr. Melons takes off, leaving me with Kellan, who I scoop up into my arms and cradle close to my chest. I rock back and forth, tears streaming down my eyes.
“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe your penis is going to fall off dead.” Snot drips from my nose onto his head. “Oh God, they’re going to call you stump in the locker room, I just know it. Kids are so cruel. Here you were with this beautifully giant penis and then bam, half of it’s cut off because your penis skin is too tight. This is all my fault.”
For the next half an hour doctors are in and out of the room, opening Kellan’s diaper and then closing it again. It’s a whirlwind of information, exams, and reassurances, leaving my head to feel like mush. When I finally get Kellan home, Henry pulls into the driveway at the same time. Thank. God.
I sit there, holding the steering wheel, staring at our garage door, feeling like I just lived ten lives in the matter of an hour.
Henry opens my door but I don’t look at him. I’m still in shock, almost as if I’m in a state of comatose. How in the world did I get home?
“Love.” He gently presses his hand to my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
A lone tear falls, before I say, “His penis . . .” I swallow hard. “His penis is on the up and up.”
“So he’s okay?” I nod, still staring at the garage door. “Are you okay?”
He pushes my hair behind my ear and before I can stop myself, I whip my head around and spit fire in his direction. “If it wasn’t for your stupid big penis, this never would have happened. We had a penis scare, Henry. A PENIS SCARE. What am I supposed to do with that?” I gesture to my crotch. “I don’t have a penis, so I don’t know about tight skin or circumcisions. I have a vagina.” I lean closer and grit through my teeth. “A vagina.”
Seeming terrified, Henry takes a step back and gently entwines his hand with mine. “Hey love, how about we go get some ice cream.”
I nod, tears streaming down my face. “I think we need to.”