Laurie, Kris, and I were standing in a room in the house where her baby was supposed to sleep. She looked down at the red, blue, and yellow air mattress. It was covered in crumbs. She was very unhappy. She pointed out a nail, which was positioned between two crevaces in the mattress, and a peanut, which was lodged between the mattress and the wall. She said that the nail and the peanut had been there since she bought the mattress.
"My baby cannot sleep on that filth," she said. "Laurie, it's not a problem," I said.
She looked puzzled. I reached down and picked up the nail and then the peanut. Next, I grabbed a broom and began to sweep up the crumbs. The mattress was clean.
I looked into the living room to see Kris' data structures and systems' programming professor (Eileen) walking in with five hispanic girls. They were her daughters. All of them were pregnant. Their ages ranged from 22-29. They had stopped by on the way to the hospital because the weather outside was awful. We had a hailstorm. One girl was in labor and was crying because her husband would miss the birth of their first child. Kris' mother tried to comfort her to no avail.
