“Just send it to yourself as a text.” Margaret’s hands were full. 

“I don’t see ‘Mom’ in your contacts.” Scrolling, scrolling, “I’m not under ‘Emily’ either? Don’t you have me in your phone?”

“Um…yes. Your name is ‘birth giver’ in my contacts.” Shit-eating grin. 

“Oh? Is it?” Good thing I love jokes, my firstborn smartass. 

Annnnd…edit Margaret’s contact in my phone…to read…

Margaret “Fruit of my Loins”

  

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