The Bad Mom

Molly I miss you, I love you, I want to come visit you. He said in his Tunisian accent.

I deleted his message. I had just found out I was pregnant from the man I met in Paris. Or so I thought. There I was five months pregnant asking a couple from Texas to take my pregnant picture in front of the Eiffel Tower. Thank you I said, taking back my camera. The very same camera I bought in Amsterdam after mine had just been stolen my very first day in Europe. You’d think I had learned my lesson about keeping my items strapped to my body, but no. I fell asleep on the train and when I woke my backpack was gone, which is why I was in Paris just moments away from knocking on the door of the Egyptian man I had the broken condom incident with.

To my surprise, an old woman answered the door. I held up a picture and she spit in my face. The neighbor told me he had moved out and was no where to be found.

I gave birth to my son on a beautiful day in May.

At first I was alone and then there were two.

People say that life is full of surprises.

Surprise! He’s white, not a trace of Egyptian in those blue eyes.

Think Molly Think!

A week before I left on my trip I de-virginized a 33 year old white guy just for fun. He had just left the Priesthood and now he’s going to Povich, but the DNA said NO WAY!

I sent you a boat. I sent you a rope.

Did I delete my baby’s daddy?