Out Of Love

You're all outta love and you're only 38.

"I blew my love on a whole lotta people who didn't deserve it," you say at the dinner table, eyeing your two sons with scorn. Your two sons both give you the finger in response.

"Are you sure you didn't leave some of your love in your other pants," your husband says pointedly. He knows about the affair with the guy who sells you your soft serve.

"I should have been more miserly," you say, ignoring your husband. "What kind of woman am I going to be now?"

Everyone sits and waits for you to do something that a woman who's all outta love might do. Nothing happens. They get hungry and start eating again.

"Pass the salt," your son says.

"Nope," you say.

Everyone drops their forks to their plates and gasps. You realize what you've become and you drop your face into your hands and wail.