I step from the shower to the sound of
voices down the hall. Mom and Aunt Rita
talking about the men in Bridget Jones’s life.
Specifically, their personal preferences.
I stand there, dripping and amused, until
I hear Mom declare that, “Firth is hotter.”
That is the point when I step into my room
laughing out loud, struck by how much
they sound like teenage girls.
It is funny until later when I am texting
Christine about it and she texts back:
“I guess your mom will start
dating one of these days.”