After the Easter Egg hunt, we reluctantly trickled back indoors. I did so more enthusiastically to escape the pollen, cradling Guinevere, who may participate in the egg hunt in two years.
“I have so many girls,” Ed remarked.
“What if the next batch of kids end up being boys?”
“That would be something,” he replied. Pause.
“What do you mean by batch?”
I smirked, inwardly reflecting on my womb. “Well, you do have three women,” I tried to say without saying.