“I watch his hands, they're lumpy but clever. "Is there a word for adults when they aren't parents?"Steppa laughs. "Folks with other things to do?”

“But I go back down near the water with Steppa to look for treasure. We find a white shell like a snail, but when I curl my finger inside, he's gone out. "Keep it," say Steppa. "But what about when he comes home?”

“[E]verywhere I'm looking at kids, adults mostly don't seem to like them, not even the parents do. They call the kids gorgeous and so cute, they make the kids do the thing all over again so they can take a photo, but they don't want to actually play with them, they'd rather drink coffee talking to other adults. Sometimes there's a small kid crying and the Ma of it doesn't even hear.”

“Also everywhere I'm looking at kids, adults mostly don't seem to like them, not even the parents do. They call the kids gorgeous and so cute, they make the kids do the thing all over again so they can take a photo, but they don't want to actually play with them, they'd rather drink coffee talking to other adults. Sometimes there's a small kid crying and the Ma of it doesn't even hear.”

“I think about Old Nick carrying me into the truck, I'm dizzy like I'm going to fall down."Scared is what you're feeling," says Ma, "but brave is what you're doing.""Huh?""Scaredybrave.""Scave."Word sandwiches always make her laugh but I wasn't being funny.”

“His plastic hand is up and he's waggling his fingers, I pretend I don't see. I'm not going to give him my fingers, I need them for me.”

“Actually, Saint Peter was in jail, one time --"I laugh. "Babies don't go in jail.""This happened when they were all grown up."I didn't know Baby Jesus grows up.”