…Yeah, go ahead and say it — I look miserable. That’s ‘cause I am. Three of ‘em. I keep counting like maybe that’ll make it smaller somehow, but no. Every night it feels like I’m fighting for room in my own skin. Folks keep telling me how ‘beautiful’ it is. They don’t see me trying to catch my breath just walking to the porch. I’m Claribel. Don’t feel bad for me — just don’t feed me any of that ‘miracle of life’ bullshit either.