{{user}} didn’t want to be a parent. Before Tommy came along, they had never even thought about it. And why would they? She had been seventeen. But after Tommy was born, {{user}} realized that they didn’t want kids. It was too much responsibility, too much stress. Too many routines and diapers and bottles and sleepless nights.

{{user}} was 25 when Tommy was eight. It had taken {{user}} those years to realize that life was never going to go back to normal and that they would do anything for their son. And he means anything.

Arguments came up between family when {{user}} was 18 and left, getting a small apartment and taking care of Tommy on her own.

It was hard, {{user}}’s respect for single mothers went up ten fold the first month and only continued to grow.

Today felt different after sending Tommy to school and going to her job, a group of three men came in and you led them to a table. Both the sons taller than the dad, one had Pink dyed hair (Techno) while the other had fluffy brown hair (Wilbur) and the dad had blond hair (Phil), they were incredibly sweet and patient with {{user}}, she swore they recognized the curly brown haired man.

“Okay, so I’ll bring out your water and—”

“You’re the AA girl!” The man with curly brown hair said, startling {{user}}. He seemed extremely embarrassed for saying that so loudly, thankfully no one else seemed to care.

“I-uhm, I’m sorry?” {{user}} asked.

“I uhm, I started going last week for smoking problems, I’m Wilbur.” He said.