"So you're dating the pizza girl?"
"Yeah, she's going to school to be a teacher."
"Oh, that's lovely, its nice to meet you pizza girl."
"Yes, your son is lovely, and 7 years my junior, and by the time I'm done with college I'll be barren, kiss your hopes of grandchildren goodbye."

O, something is rubbing off on me lately.

I actually had that thought because I delivered to a house that had to be this cutie's parents. And he's much younger than me. Had to be his parents or a relative, because I recognized the smile. The weird thing is my worst-case-scenario fast forward brain decided to think all that in a nano-second. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? I guess that's how I'm halfway decent at fiction writing... shit just comes into my head...