Lowell: I told Coach today.
Hollis: Did he freak?
Lowell: Only about the due date.
Hollis: What’s wrong with the due date?
Lowell: We really need to talk about your lack of hockey knowledge.
Lowell: April is playoffs.
Hollis: Oh. And those are important?
Lowell: …
Hollis: I’m kidding!
Hollis: I know it’s important because it determines the Super Bowl winner.
Lowell: I…I can’t. I just can’t.
Hollis: What? Something wrong? *bats lashes*
Lowell: I know you’re just teasing, but words hurt, Hollis. They really, really hurt.
Lowell: I’m going to make it my sole mission to make you love hockey before this baby gets here.
Hollis: We’ll see about that.
Lowell: How are you feeling?
Hollis: Fine.
Lowell: Just fine?
Hollis: I have a human growing inside of me that’s depleting all my energy and making me a hormonal psycho.
Hollis: HOW DO YOU THINK I’M DOING?!
Lowell: Fine.
Hollis: You really don’t need to keep checking in on me every day.
Lowell: It’s MY human growing inside of you that’s depleting all your energy and making you a hormonal psycho.
Lowell: Do you really think I’m not going to be checking in on you?
Hollis: Ugh. Fine. I get it.
Lowell: Thank you. And you’re welcome.
Hollis: Welcome for what? This alien inside of me?
Lowell: Yes. But also for checking in on you.
Hollis: Please. Do NOT act like you’re doing ME a favor. This is all your fault.
Lowell: It takes two.
Hollis: Lowell…
Hollis: Please. I’m tired. I can’t take any more sparring today.
Lowell: Can you just let me know if you actually keep some food down?
Hollis: The doctor said it was fine and I shouldn’t be worried.
Lowell: Okay. Then I’ll worry for the both of us.
Lowell: Just text me, you stubborn woman, okay?
Hollis: Fine.
Lowell: Stop saying fine.
Hollis: Okay…
Hollis: Fine.
Lowell: Calliope
Hollis: No.
Lowell: Good.
Lowell: I hate that name.
Hollis: Then why did you suggest it?
Lowell: Just making sure we’re on the same page.
Hollis: Speaking of page…
Hollis: What about Paige?
Lowell: I’m…indifferent.
Hollis: *eye-roll emoji*
Hollis: Of course you are.
Lowell: I have suggested no less than five names to you this week and this is the first time I’ve rejected one of yours and I get an OF COURSE?!
Lowell: Also, please note it wasn’t an outright no. I just said I’m indifferent.
Hollis: That basically means no.
Lowell: *blinks*
Hollis: *blinks faster*
Lowell: *blinks hard AND faster*
Hollis: It’s really rude of you to argue with a pregnant woman, you know. It causes stress for the baby.
Lowell: Leave her out of this.
Hollis: Or him.
Hollis: We still don’t know yet.
Lowell: It’s a girl. I can feel it.
Hollis: Oh, can you? Can you feel it? Even when it’s not inside your body stealing all of your comfort and joy?
Lowell: Someone is a bit dramatic, no?
Lowell: Would it bring you joy if I had some food delivered?
Hollis: It would bring me joy if you left me alone.
Hollis: And sent a cheeseburger.
Lowell: You still pissed?
Hollis: Yes.
Lowell: Why?
Hollis: A SALAD, LOWELL. You sent me a salad. That’s just…wrong. On many levels.
Lowell: One, I sent a salad because YOU were the one complaining about weight gain on the phone the other night.
Lowell: Two, I was reading a baby book and they said greasy foods probably aren’t the best to consume. They’re hard to digest. I did you a favor.
Hollis: Well, do me another favor—don’t do me any more favors!
Lowell: That’s a very counterproductive request, don’t you think?
Hollis: Remember when I told you I didn’t like you?
Lowell: Yes.
Hollis: Well, somehow, I like you even less today.
Lowell: I’ll remember that for when I happen across a drive-thru and don’t order you any ice cream.
Hollis: You wouldn’t dare.
Lowell: Sorry. I can’t text. I’m busy ordering food.
Hollis: Shut up and get me chocolate.
Hollis: NO! Swirl.
Hollis: Wait. Chocolate.
Hollis: Lowell?
Lowell: This is an automated message. The person you are trying to reach is currently in the drive-thru waiting on one small ice cream for nobody else but himself. Please try again later.
Hollis: I hate you.
Lowell: You wish.
Hollis: Sucks you guys lost tonight.
Lowell: You watched the game?
Hollis: No. Harper did.
Hollis: I just happened to be there.
Lowell: You totally watched.
Hollis: Did not. I don’t even like hockey, remember?
Lowell: Take that back.
Hollis: It’s boring.
Lowell: Hollis…
Hollis: And slow.
Lowell: Slow?! Are you kidding me? I can literally skate faster than the speed limit in my neighborhood!
Lowell: I can’t believe I’m having a baby with a hockey hater. I’m so ashamed of myself.
Hollis: You are not.
Lowell: You’re right. But I should be.
Lowell: Did you know that our baby is the size of a pair of baby booties?
Lowell: Whatever those are.
Hollis: Are you looking at baby websites again?
Lowell: Yes. Since I’m not there, I like to know what you’re experiencing.
Hollis: That’s…actually kind of sweet.
Lowell: I know.
Lowell: It’s also still smaller than the average dick, but I’ll have to let Miller know that the baby is catching up to him fast.
Hollis: Umm…excuse me?
Hollis: Like a penis?
Lowell: Yeah.
Hollis: Did you just compare our child to a penis? A PENIS?
Lowell: Again, yeah.
Hollis: How… What… Why do you know the size of the average dick?
Lowell: All guys know it instinctually.
Lowell: It’s a thing. Trust me.
Lowell: Speaking of…how do we feel about Dick?
Hollis: I take it back. You’re not sweet.
Lowell: I’m guessing Richard is out of the question, then, too?
Lowell: Hollis?
Lowell: Fine. I’ll stop. But it’s going to be really HARD to do.
Hollis: If you think I’m above kneeing you in the balls, I’m not.
Lowell: Oh, I am very well aware of all the pain you enjoy inflicting on me.
Hollis: Good. Now remember that the next time you compare our child to a penis.
