Baby Talk

Susan was childless because she couldn't stand baby talk. She loved children, but the moronic way adults talk to them gave her pause. For years, she'd watched her girlfriends breeding like shad, these little herring-like fish she'd seen on the Discovery Channel that migrate from salt water to fresh water in order to spawn, only to end up as food for other fish. She yearned to conceive a child, to abandon herself to the musky cocktail of estrogen and testosterone that would eventually fill her with joy. But if so much as a warning shot was fired across her bowsprit, she was paralyzed by the echoes of "kootchy-kootchy-coo" careening around her memory. She had her pride.

Now she sat fingering the gift certificate. The only thing this was to certify was that Rob had intentions. She couldn't very well refuse his present -- he was sitting right there. And he'd ordered after-dinner liqueurs. Really? Grand Marnier and a chocolate souffle to share? Clear intentions. He reached across the table for her hand, and she let him. He studied her face as if trying to know her in a way that she'd never been known. She looked away when she overheard a woman on a cell phone obviously talking to a child. "Howza bebe? Izums tie-uhd? Aw, poor widda shugah bum." The familiar bristle creeped up the back of her neck.

But a smile broke across her face as she looked back at Rob. And the oral contraceptives in her medicine cabinet suddenly seemed poisonous.

Seed words: baby talk, liqueur, studied, gift certificate, bowsprit, pause, shad, testosterone, certify, poisonous

These words were generated using the random-word generator found on coyotecult.com.