(almost) Thirty, (always) flirty and (all about) freezing eggs

Already?

Mom looked like she had in her baby photos. The ones where you can see the moisten tear ducts looking straight at the camera lens. Those photos where the glisten of a tear threatening to set free is captured.

She wore the same expression that falls tragically on a child’s face after learning Santa does not in fact exist.

But in this case it was that love did not necessarily exist, at least not long enough for a new life to form. Nope. Love had yet to prevail as it did so many times in the made-for-tv films she watched.

The life of a single woman in the 21st century didn’t always enthusiastically welcome a ring on her finger, or the ring of a wedding bell and for that matter, a ring attached to a baby pacifier.

Nope.

Dad, on the other hand, held tightly onto the steering wheel of the car as if he’d just been handed over control of a rocket headed nose first into the earth’s soil. A failed engine the culprit.

*this is a developing story

A big "hmm"

Goodbye winter coats, goodbye q-tips, goodbye you