Chapter 3.14

I've been complaining a lot to my mother that Robi can't make a good father afterall. If he's not making Polly cry, he's making her grumpy. Not sure if it's the way he holds her, or the not-delicate words that he uses wrongly to Polly. Mother told me that it's actually very unnatural as a father is supposedly to love the daughter more than a mother does. But that could be just another old wives' tale. I told her that's it. It's my one and only child ever.

Or -- not. This morning mother told me that she saw a 'rubber' left lying on her favorite sofa. I told her whoopsie we're too naughty and tired last night. After the whole drama of Robi won't make a good father, we screamed at each other, but we also made up, sexily. Heh.

"But it's broken, honey. Didn't you tell me that it's going to be your last child ever?"

*and my brain screamed in its utmost horror*