Putting Yourself Out There Just to Make Room for Yourself Version 2.0
Jeff walked to his neighbor’s house. He had a casserole. His neighbors had just had a baby. He understood that new parents needed casseroles, because of the baby. He wasn’t entirely sure how it worked. He had to look up how to make a casserole. He had to buy a new casserole dish to make it in. He had to buy some ingredients he never bought before, like cooking spray and frozen potatoes. At the grocery store, someone was talking into a walkie-talkie about guns — something about making sure there were enough guns. Jeff had wondered then how many guns he could hold if he had to. He was still thinking about how many guns he could hold, max, when his neighbor answered the door. The guy was holding the baby and looked confused. The baby looked at Jeff. Jeff held up the casserole and said he had brought a casserole. The guy shifted his weight and looked down at the baby, then at the casserole, and then at Jeff. The guy wasn’t wearing a shirt. He set the baby down on the floor and took the casserole into the house. Jeff looked at the baby and thought, “baby.” The guy came back and said thank you. Jeff asked how the mom was doing. The guy sighed while shaking his head. He looked down at the baby slowly fidgeting on the floor. He cleared his throat and said, “She’s fine. You know, uh, she’s good.” Jeff looked at the guy’s naked chest and arms and felt with some degree of confidence that they could both probably hold four or five guns if someone was really counting on them.