Nothing Whatsoever To Get Excited About

Nothing Whatsoever To Get Excited AboutDottie was the first woman I dated who was taller than me, though by just an inch or two. Her bed was also very large and high off the ground and climbing on it required a running jump. If I sat on the side, my feet dangled a good six inches off the floor. She was from New Hampshire and played bass in a band and had dated, up until me, only women. It’d been over five years since I last saw Dottie, and considering it was an ad for a nanny and only mothers and fathers ever post ads for nannies and she was not a mother five years ago, I was forced to a very hasty and panicked arithmetic. Five years minus nine months divided by naïve boy who thought he alone could transcend sexual binaries equaled: panic. I scoured the email for clues. She had two children, boys, ages 4 years and 6 months, and only needed childcare a couple days a week.

Originally published August 18, 2016 in Big Lucks, Number 12.

Read the rest here.

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