“I want a baby,” Margaret says as she presses a can of beer to her lips. “A big eyed baby with golden blue eyes.” She tips her head back on her sofa. “Yes, big golden blue eyes.”
          “But I don’t have golden blue eyes and neither do you,” her boyfriend responds as he downs another can of beer.
          “They’d be pretty. Really pretty.”
          “They’d be weird, Margie.”
          Margaret laughs and shakes her head at him. “You’d agree if you’ve seen them. They were shimmering like gold.” She lifts her head back up and chugs the rest of her beer. “Shimmering like gold but blue. Like, like golden blue.”
          “Yea, yea.” Her boyfriend opens another can. “And they’d be really ugly.”
          She tips her head back against the sofa again. “Why can’t you understand how pretty they are? How pretty they would be? They’d be really pretty, really really pretty”
          “They’d be the ugliest thing in the planet, that’s what they’ll be.”
          “You don’t want a baby with pretty golden blue eyes?”
          Her boyfriend stretches his legs in front of him and slouches down on her sofa. “But I don’t have golden blue eyes.” He throws his empty can of beer across the room and tips his head against the sofa like Margaret. He stares at the stained ceiling for a long time. “And you don’t have golden blue eyes either.”