“Asking me to describe my son is like asking me to hold the ocean in a paper cup”

“If you ask me to describe what I look like, I’ll simply say, “I look like my clone.”

“you do that all the time you know. you ask me questions when you know the answer will piss you off. ask me a question where the answer could be yes? ask me if you're worth the hard work? ask me if in the last seven years of my life i've woken up in a cold sweat knowing i lost the most important person in my life apart from this kid i'm holding? ask me if getting you pregnat has felt like the best thing that's happened to me since my son was born?”

“At Starbucks I like ordering a “Tall venti in a grande cup.” That’s basically me asking for a small large in a medium cup.
”

“Arcadia,” Lon’s voice said from my phone. “Who is this?” I teased. “You can’t take my son on a date.” “I didn’t ask him. He asked me.” “He stole my cell and called without permission.” “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” A low growling noise came out of the phone.”

“holding a tiny dixie cup in my hand makes me feel like a giant human being that can crush things”