I was just paging through notes I'd taken and tucked into my "writing life" folder. Doing a little spring cleaning. Looking for inspiration. I found this, a line-by-line account of a conversation I'd had with Bergen a few years ago. He must've been five.
Me: I ran my first race when I was pregnant with you.
Bergen: That's bad, right?
Me: No, it was ok. I was just newly pregnant – and you turned out ok, right?
Me: How are you not ok?
Bergen: I'm always thirsty.