Very Demure, Very Thankful

It’s fortunate that you’re reading this on a screen, since any other format would have your fingers sticky with sweet potato goo and spite.

It’s Thanksgiving week, so I’m on ritual meal prep while writing in the kitchen, because this is apparently where we womenfolk live now. Preferably barefoot and forcibly pregnant, as Margaret Atwood and the handmaids foretold.

While my wizened ovaries leave little chance of forging any new spawn, my unpedicured toenails are on full display, but only because the dogs ate my cozy socks.