The baby’s thoughts replayed in her mind, but she dismissed them. However, as Nancy opened her car door, she was shocked. The same baby lay in her back seat, crying. Nancy looked around. Amanda was nowhere to be seen. “How did this baby even get here?” she wondered.
It was cold, so Nancy removed her jacket and began wrapping it around the little one. But she froze when she noticed a birthmark on the baby’s neck. “It can’t be,” she muttered to herself. The birthmark was exactly like Patrick’s. Nancy didn’t want to suspect her late husband of cheating. But now, she needed the truth. She needed to know if Patrick had been unfaithful to her. Nancy drove home with the baby, took Patrick’s hair strands from his hairbrush, and went to a hospital,
“Hello, I’d like to get a paternity test done,” she told the receptionist at the counter. “OK, ma’am. Normally, it takes a few days to get the results,” the woman said. “Can it be done quicker?” Nancy asked. “I’ll pay extra.” “Well, we do have expedited service. Let me see what I can do. But it will cost you more.” “I’ll take it,” Nancy replied. She submitted Patrick’s samples and paid for the test. Sitting in the hallway, she was awaiting the results when the baby started crying. Nancy sniffed the baby’s clothes.
Her diaper didn’t need a change. Nancy guessed she must have been hungry. There was still time before the results came in, so she drove to a supermarket and bought baby formula, bottles, and a few diapers — just in case she needed them. She returned to the hallway and sat there, feeding the formula to the baby. After what seemed like an eternity, a nurse approached her with the results. The woman handed her an envelope and walked away.
This is the truth, and I’ll have to accept it whether I like it or not,” Nancy thought as she opened the results. Her head seemed to spin when she read the words, “Paternity rate – 99%.” Nancy looked at the sleeping baby in her arms and swallowed the tears in her eyes.
Patrick had cheated on her and kept her in the dark. Nancy decided she would not live with the proof of his infidelity forever. She would find the baby’s mother and give the baby back to her. Pulling herself together, Nancy drove home and began going through Patrick’s things. But she didn’t find anything that could point her to his lover. She moved to his office next, searching his drawers, files, and cabinets. But nothing. Nancy sighed.
The baby was asleep in the living room. Grabbing the baby monitor, she headed to Patrick’s car. She searched under the seats, in the glove compartment, and in all the nooks and crannies of the vehicle. But she didn’t find anything significant. Nancy sank into the driver’s seat when her eyes landed on the GPS. And it was then it hit her. Patrick was terrible at directions and always used the navigator. If he had ever visited his mistress’ house, that is where she would find her address.
Nancy went straight to recent destinations on the navigator. The list wasn’t long, mostly familiar places: local restaurants, the hardware store, and Patrick’s office. But then, one address caught her eye—it appeared more frequently than others, and she didn’t recognize it. “This is it,” she thought. She took the baby with her and drove to the address. *** Arriving there, Nancy found herself in front of a modest house.
She scooped the baby in her arms, walked to the front door, and knocked. “Hello? Anyone home?” she asked. After the tenth knock, when nobody answered the door, Nancy concluded the house was empty. She looked around and decided to approach the neighbors. She started with the house next door and rang the doorbell. The door opened with a creak, and Nancy’s eyes widened when Amanda stepped out.
“You?” Nancy asked. “How…how did you find me?” Amanda stuttered. “I was trying to find my husband’s…” Nancy paused. “His other woman. I wanted to return her baby.”
A strange sadness flashed across Amanda’s face. “The woman who lived next door… died a few days ago. She had a heart attack when she learned about your husband’s accident. Emma is no more.” “Wait…did you say Emma?” Nancy asked, shocked.
A man on a flight to Chicago suddenly found himself having an urgent need to use the bathroom.
He headed over to the men’s room, nervously tapping his foot on the floor of the aircraft. Each time he tried the door, it was occupied.
A stewardess noticed his predicament and told him, “I’ll let you use the ladies’ room, but on one condition – don’t touch the buttons on the wall!”
The man breathed a sigh of relief while sitting on the toilet, and his attention drifted to the buttons on the wall. The buttons were marked “WW, WA, PP and ATR”.
Making the mistake that so many men make in disregarding the importance of what a woman says, the man let his curiosity get the best of him and decided to try the buttons anyway.
He carefully pressed the first button marked “WW” and immediately warm water sprayed all over his entire bottom.
He thought, “Wow, this is strangely pleasant, women really have it made!”
Still curious, he pressed the button marked “WA” and a gentle breeze of warm air quickly dried his hind quarters.
“This is amazing!” he thought, “Men’s rooms having nothing like this!”
He then pressed the button marked “PP”, which yielded a large powder puff that delicately applied a soft talc to his rear.
Well, naturally he couldn’t resist the last button marked “ATR”, and then everything went black.
When he woke up in the hospital he panicked and buzzed for the nurse.
When she appeared, he cried out, “What happened to me?! The last thing I remember, I was in the ladies’ room on a plane!”
The nurse replied,
“Yes, I’m sure you were having a great time until you pressed the ‘ATR’ button, which stands for ‘Automatic Tampon Remover.’”
