Everything in life was going perfectly, but then my luck expired.
It all started when I got a new job, which came with a new guy. That’s when I managed to cause an unforeseeable disaster, which took down an entire company in less than a week.
The new job, the new guy and a big mouth led to another giant mistake. Then, one more for good measure.
Flash forward a couple of weeks, and ... I’ve got milk ... because I’m dating the milkman, and yes, milk did his body good.
Not only do milkmen still exist, but I’ve come to learn that some women hire a milkman to deliver more than just milk.
I’m not the sharing type, but I also don’t like to cry over spilled—you get my point. So, I can either have a cow or search for greener pastures.
Depending on my decision, though, I need to ask myself if I’m prepared to tell my future children that their father is, in fact, the milkman.