I've written about my lack of a biological time-piece before. There is no ticking in my loins. I do not crave a lifetime of sleepless nights or puke stains on my suede coat, that were not caused by too much tequila. And I suspect me and the ladies at the PTA would not get along.
But dayum.
You read something like this and I swear I felt an ovary tingle and a motherish pang.
God damn Ben Franklin and his daylight savings. Messes with my head.
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