How to Keep a Daughter

“Yes, mommy?” Janie asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t ‘mommy’ me. You didn’t exactly do anything to stop your boyfriend from turning me into an inflatable toy and having sex on top of me!”

“But at least I tried to make sure you enjoyed it, too!” she said.

I snorted. Of course, I couldn’t deny that I had enjoyed it, in a weird kind of way—but I’d be damned if I was going to tell her that.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think about it.” She looked down. “So whatcha gonna do with me?”

That was a good question. Unlike her boyfriend, she didn’t deserve putting up for adoption. But she didn’t deserve to be back to normal like nothing had happened, either, and I didn’t have time for a daughter. Then I had an idea.

“Here.” I stuck the nozzle in her mouth again, switched the knob to “air,” and then opened the valve. For a moment, she looked surprised. Then, with a hiss, she collapsed like a deflated air mattress.

I rolled her up and put her in a drawer. I could figure out what to do with her later.

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