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Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Baby daddy

(I use this term now quite frequently, even though it sounds awkward as hell rolling off my proper tongue. Sometimes it’s the best way to describe the guy. I still feel like a dumb-ass poser every time I say it, though.)

Today I asked someone who her daughter’s father was. She paused, looked at her daughter, thought for a moment, and said, “X. Well, really Y, but X’s name is on the birth certificate.”

It was surreal to me. How in the hell can I ever understand where someone like this comes from? Not for one single solitary minute do I have any idea what it would be like not to instantly know who my child’s biological father was.


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