I Don’t Know How to Make Friends

I meet a girl in the lobby who is also a new mom in the building. She has a 10-month-old son and when she finds out I’m around in the mornings and on Fridays, she asks for my number so we can get together with our kids. We exchange numbers and begin commiserating.

Girl: “Isn’t being a mom like a million times better than being pregnant?”

Me: “Oh my god YES. I say that all the time! I was a MISERABLE pregnant person.”

Girl: “Me TOO! The worst! I was SO tired the entire 9 months.”

Me: “Yup. And achy and short of breath…

Girl: “Yes!”

Me: “And couldn’t sleep, totally nauseated, so irritable…”

Girl: “Oh my god YES. SO irritable…”

Me: “Hot flashes…”

Girl: “ALL the time!”

Me: “And like the bedwetting– what’s THAT about?!”

Girl: “Yes, totall– wait what?”

Me: “Oh. I wet the bed once…”

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She hasn’t called.

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