The Baby Needs Changing

I picked the ex up from the airport.  She had been in Portland for the last week and was still drunk when I found her at the Information Desk outside C gate.  

"Do I smell like liquor?" She asked.

"No." I lied.

On the way home, she turned white, rolled the window down and vomited outside my moving car.

"Uhhhh," She said, sort of laughing, "I got puke on my wrist."  Rather oblivious to the dripping, yellow bile that now ran down the side of my Corolla, she examined the liquid on her hand. "Gross."

Some things never change.

The night before, the boyfriend and I smoked pot in my living room and read bad poetry and prose from a former writing class of mine.  We laughed at the crappy shit and praised the good stuff and blew hits into the air while drinking tall cans of PBR.  Seemingly, we are just that classy.  When the boyfriend and I were in high school together many years ago we’d bond over shit talking and readings of bad, mediocre writing.  Back then, we’d make each other laugh by going to the Wal-Mart parking lot and hitting shopping carts with his car.  We’d exchange movie ideas and meanflirt with each other.

Some things never change.

I like to wash my birth control down with shots of vodka.

A few nights ago I made dinner at the boyfriend’s apartment for him and his roommates.  His roommates are a married couple who have a 3 year old and they’re always yelling at each other. Especially the wife, who is perpetually yelling at her husband, "SHANE! CAN YOU PLEASE CHANGE HIM!!"  Shane, naturally, will be doing something like playing Fable II or trying to show us shit we don’t care about on Youtube.  He is the "guy who always wants so show you shit on youtube."

The boy and I will be in his room talking about something, involved in a healthy and obvious conversation and Shane will knock on the door, Sony Vaio laptop in hand,

"Hey, have you guys seen this?"

What follows will be at least 30 minutes of kids falling off trampolines, QVC bloopers, funny rap songs.  The boyfriend will ignore him or act uninterested, but for some reason I am unable to pretend not to be interested even if I’m not.  So I’ll be like

wow
cool
that’s funny

Because of this fact, when I am around, Shane will not leave us alone.  It’s like he’s a kid and totally happy to get some attention and I don’t really mind him so much but I feel bad when, in the middle of a funny music video by some band that sucks, will be the wife,

"SHANE!! I NEED HELP!"

The little kid will be prancing about putting his sticky fingers all over the boyfriend’s shit and throwing Legos at my back and saying things, seemingly inaudible, which his parents will decipher just perfectly.

"Oh, he said he loves you." The wife says.
"Oh…um,  I love you too man." I say, and feel weird.  The day before, the boyfriend told me that the small child had taken to telling him he loved him too.

"Well, what do you say back to him?" I ask.
"I tell him I just don’t think we’ve reached that point in our relationship."

I serve them dinner that night.  I cook two different kinds of Sloppy Joe’s and oven fries cause the boyfriend eats like a three year old and luckily, there’s another three year old around to enjoy it as well.  During dinner we talk about sex in high school and I sound like a whore because his roommates are Chrisitans or some stupid shit like that.  The kid sticks his fingers in his food and makes noises and fidgets.  I drink more than anyone else and suddenly there’s the familure

"SHANE! WILL YOU CHANGE HIM PLEASE?? I’M STILL EATING."

The boyfriend and I feel awkward, eat quickly and then subside into his room.  Shane, another high school mate of ours, perpetually involved with hot tempered girls comes in the room with his laptop in hand,

"Some things never change, eh?"

We nod, but it’s more out of symphony than agreance.

The next day my brother calls me and tells me his wife is pregnant.  He talks for an hour about how scared he is.  About how he watched Saved by the Bell, and it just seemed different because he watched Saved by the Bell (on DVD, mind you) yesterday and life wasn’t nearly as complicated.

"You still watch Saved by the Bell, huh? Man, some shit never changes." I say

"Are you kidding? " He says, "It’s unbelievable how much shit changes.  At this time next year I’m going to be a fucking Dad and I’m not going to be able say ‘fucking’ ’cause my kid might hear me."

Change.  He’s right.  Everyone is having kids, making plans, moving away.  I inform the boyfriend I’m going to be an aunt and then later send him a text that reads

awww honey, I want a baby

he promptly sends me one back that says

fuck you

And I laugh

Kids. Change. Marriage. Progression.  Should I feel left out?  Should I feel like I’m missing out because I don’t have a sticky handed kid swinging on my door knob blurting out some inaudible bullshit? 

I forgot to take the birth control yesterday so tonight it’s two pills, two shots a vodka. And he still better pull out. 

Last week, the boyfriend asked me to move with him to LA.

I think maybe my brother is right, it’s unbelievable how much shit changes.