By Owen Townend
Isabella slides past Mum to stand further up the hallway, back against the wall. She fills the space between two framed photos of herself and her other siblings.
She beams at her mother as she is now.
“You see anything different?” she asks.
Mum’s face bounces between a frown and a smile.
Isabella points at her stomach. Her mother’s eyes widen.
“You’re not!” she gasps.
Isabella nods.
“You…” Mum rushes forward to touch her belly. “You ate a Chimichanga!”
“I ate a Chimichanga, Mum!” Isabella bites her lip. “A spicy one.”
They embrace, Mum careful around the bump. Isabella burps anyway.
Aha! Did she or didn’t she? Guess we’ll never know–till it shows or doesn’t show.
Belch.