Ultrasound

“What is that?”
“My ultrasound. My daughter.”
“You’re not shy, yeah?”
(Laughs.) “She’s due next month.”
“Oh. Girls!”
“I like my girls. They’re easier.”
(Snorts.) “I don’t think so. But enjoy them while you can. By the time my daughter was sixteen, she wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“Oh?”
“That’s just how she was. She’d answer with grunts. When she made eighteen, she went into the Army. Never even asked what I thought! Then— boom! She was gone. Moved far, far away. And she never visits! Never calls!”
“You have boys too?”
(Gulps.) “I-I have a son…”