LOOK?”“Well, yeah ... I mean...”She let the paper drop on the table and focused her full attention on me. I shut up, swallowed hard and shifted ...y weight around on that hand grenade.“And how, exactly, do I... ‘LOOK’?”I guessed we weren’t finished with the bullshit after all. I somehow felt that maybe she should be reading a copy of, I’m OK You’re OK or Sybil or maybe something on the terrors of PMS, instead of the morning paper. Maybe a couple of pamphlets on anger management would be nice.{On. I went to bed that night after giving Terry his goodnight kiss all confused, should I say something about my knickers and should I even be kissing him on the mouth at his age.My sleep was full of happy thoughts of his dad and seeing my wet stained knickers made it seem he was still alive with us.The next week or so I could not wait to get home and check the laundry basket, every night another pair of my knickers had been filled with my son’s seaman after he got back from school. Then one night. More

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