
It was Monday, and I had a fever, so I stayed home from preschool.
Mom told Dad that he had to take good care of me. But Dad just holed up in the bedroom, sleeping the entire day.
My whole body felt wobbly, but I forced myself to shuffle over to the bedroom door and rapped on it.
"Daddy, I'm hungry," I called.
Dad stumbled out wearing nothing but his underwear, looking totally annoyed. He crumpled a hundred-dollar bill into my hand and told me to go buy myself something to eat. He added that on the way back, I had to pick him up a box of ultra-thin condoms.
I had no idea what a condom even looked like, so when I got to the supermarket, I went and asked the cashier who worked there. Her face kept changing expression, over and over. Then she told me it was a really good thing and that I should bring it home to my mom.
When Mom finally got home that evening, I was waiting. I immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her over, holding the box out like I was showing off a really cool treasure.
"Mommy!" I exclaimed. "The cashier said this is a really good thing! Daddy told me to buy a box for him, and I saved it for you!" But instead of lighting up with joy, every bit of color drained from Mom's face, leaving her deathly pale.

