Although living in England Dad and I would rejoice whenever the Welsh rugby team beat the English, especially if the game was played at Twickenham. Ou... smiles were hidden from our neighbours after all they were mostly English and we had to live next to them. In summer we played cricket, with an ancient gas streetlight serving as the wicket, and a bit of rudely carved waste wood as a bat. The girls would play hopscotch and there was many an argument as at times a football or cricket player would. “I showed him pictures of you and Aaron and he just thinks it’s, like, so groovy how young and handsome and strong you both are! Our baby is going to have such groovy genes!” “Wow!” the stud murmurs again. “Oh, J.J., baby, you’re not mad at me, are you? Please don’t be mad! I’m, like, so sorry I didn’t tell you! It’s like I’ve been using you for your sperm or something!” the hippie exclaims, now starting to feel wracked with guilt. “No, I’m not mad. I really want to help you…and Milo,” J.J.. More

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