Alison hadn’t been too happy when she’d found out she was going to be a big sister. Then again, most fifteen years olds wouldn’t have been either. Her mother, Lyn’s, second pregnancy was what Alison considered, as she’d so lovingly put it, was “walking advertisement that her parents still had sex.â€?

‘At least I won’t have to go at it alone again,’ Lyn thought happily, thinking of how she and her friend Patty had both gone through their first pregnancies together and history was repeating itself, Lyn with her second and Patty with her fourth.

“-the hell is this ratty old thing?â€? Alison’s frowning remark caught her mother’s attention. Lyn glanced back, curious as to what her daughter was talking about. Her eyes lit up when she saw Alison holding a dusty old mostly-still-stuffed teddy bear, worn and soft from years of being carted around and loved. Her heart sank when she saw that her daughter was holding it out at arm’s length, as if it carried some horrible smell.

“That’s Booboo, remember him?”

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