Is it true that once you’re a parent it’s hard to maintain
           a social life of your own?



At the nursery, I met Elder Happy, father of 13, teacher, wandering scribe.

I’d read his books for years, couldn’t believe my luck
             meeting Elder Happy in the flesh.

The Elder was reliably happy. He told me he was happy
             to meet a another new mother
He was happy to help with my sleep deprivation. He was happy
                      to see the fullness I still carried through my thighs.

The milk dream of my breasts made him happy.
                                                          My half alert eyes.