The following conversation took place while I had a mouthful of chicken and He-Man was making papaya juice in the kitchen.

Mom: So Gyasi, let’s discuss grandchildren.

Me: What?!

Mom: I want at least nine.

Me: That’s not happening.

Mom: I’m not saying you have to have all of them. You, Tim, and Kira can split it up evenly. Three each!

Me: (desparately wanting to eat my chicken and knowing there’s no way I’m going to get out of this coversation sans emotional scarring) Ugh, fine Mom. What age did you have your first child?

Mom: Twenty-five.

Me: (calculating) Well, that’s not gonna happen. Dad, how old were you?

Dad: Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine, maybe?

Me: Ok, I’ll shoot for that.

    Take note that there was no mention of a husband in this conversation.

    Perhaps I should amend my previous statement of how I’m going to be a spinster and instead assert that I’ll just be an unwed mother.

    I’m honestly not sure which is worse.

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