INT. STARBUCKS. DAY.
A WOMAN works on her laptop. A MOTHER sits nearby drinking a LATTE. HER BABY coos in a stroller.
ME: Stop looking at that baby like you want to eat it.
ME: But he’s so yummy!
ME: So have some chocolate. Chocolate stabilizes you.
ME: Hey listen…
ME: No.
ME: I just want to tell you something…
ME: I don’t have time for you. I’m busy writing this blog post.
ME: BUT I WANT TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY!!!
ME: Shhhhh!!!
ME: Listen to me.
ME: Absolutely not.
ME: Time is running out; I’m ready to have baby number three!
ME: This is crazy talk. You’re just getting your life back, you really want to throw everything away?
ME: Oh, don’t be so dramatic.
ME: Have you forgotten sleepless nights? Sore, cracked nipples? Incontinence?
ME: Yes. But I remember cheeks! Newborn smell! Tiny socks that look like shoes!
ME: I’m telling you, woman– don’t even go down this road. Keep calm, be grateful you have two healthy children and carry on.
ME: Three is still a teeny tiny very small number, you know.
ME: Not true. Everyone I know with three kids says DON’T DO IT.
ME: Like who? Who says that?
ME: Krista. She said it. Once.
ME: Krista? Gluten-free sugar-free Krista? She’s cranky 24/7.
ME: Jeannie Long said it with her eyes when I saw her at the food truck festival.
ME: Jeannie Long just needs to find the right anti-depressant. She’ll be fine.
ME: We have enough on our plate with two spirited children. Take some responsibility and get your hormones under control.
ME: Excuse me? I am a woman of child-bearing age feeling my natural desire to procreate! And you know what? You can’t stop me.
ME: What’s that supposed to mean?
ME: Just that I’m stronger than you.
ME: That makes no sense. I am you. Together we are me.
ME: I’m just saying if I want to get something done, I’ll do it.
ME: Are you threatening me?
ME: I think I need to talk to him.
ME: Oh, really?
ME: Yes, really. And maybe I’ll wear some trashy lingerie while I’m at it.
ME: Lemme save you some time, honey: Ha Ha Ha Ha… NO!
ME: Come on. He’s more sensitive than that. And… he’s easy.
ME: You’re right. After he has sex with you, he will politely remind you that we’ve had this conversation already…
ME: Sure, we had the conversation but it’s not like anyone signed any documents…
ME: …Then he will swallow his rage and at a later date he will fling it at you in some wondrously passive-aggressive manner. Probably on the day you need him most. Probably on trash day. That’s usually when it happens…
ME: Hmm. Well, if no one’s going to work with me on this, I might just have to go rogue here. Maybe “forget” to take my pill…
ME: That’s sick.
ME: Isn’t it?
ME: You wouldn’t.
ME: I would! Crazy, right?! I never realized I had it in me, but I do! This is what power feels like! Real, radical, unharnessed POWER!!!
ME: Oh yeah? Fire with fire. I’ll make him get a vasectomy.
ME: He refused the vasectomy, remember? Which– think about it– can only mean one thing: HE WANTS MORE KIDS!
ME: YOU WILL CONTINUE TO TAKE THAT PILL!
ME: What are you gonna do? Rat me out? No one would ever know. I’d just be like, “Oopsies! Guess I was the 1%!”
ME: Sometimes I forget how much I hate you.
ME: I don’t like you very much either. You’re no fun. What’s your blog post about? 10 Ways to be a No-Fun Mommy?
ME: Maybe I want to work, alright? Maybe I have book deals and TV shows in my future. I want my body back, I want my brain back. I want time and I want energy. I want to focus on raising the children I already have.
ME: In other words: Me, Me, Me, Me, Me…
ME: You’re impossible. We’ll just have to agree to disagree.
ME: No.
ME: Yes! I am getting back to work.
ME: Wait! Check this email from Maggie first.
ME: Why?
ME: Because it says she had the baby a week early. Quick! Click on the pictures!
ME: Not now.
ME: CLICK ON THE GODDAMN PICTURES!!!
ME: Okay, relax, stop swearing. [BEAT] Holy shit. That is…. that is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.
ME: Uh huh.
ME: Angelic. Don’t you think?
ME: I think Maggie looks like hell. Like she gave birth out of her face.
ME: And look, there are those socks you were talking about. They look like shoes!
ME: Maybe she feels cramped. There’s barely enough room in the frame for her with all those children. It’s like they’re suffocating her!
ME: You were right, I think we could handle one more. Just a little one…
ME: No, no, you were right. A family of four will travel better. A book tour is no place for a newborn…
ME: Wait a minute! Have we flipped out here?
ME: Feels kinda flippy in here, yeah.
ME: Let’s take a step back.
ME: Breathe.
ME: Exhale.
ME: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
ME: At this particular moment? Yes.
ME: Chocolate?
ME: Chocolate.
ME: I’ll buy.
