
All of them dead. If only they’d taken rudimentary English and learned to read traffic signs.
Jennifer: No. I just want her to be in ballet recitals and have a pony that she loves that I will name Perestroika.
Ashley: And someday you’ll allow her to marry a doctor or a lawyer or a financier and–oh!–the shoes he will buy her!
Jennifer: I will cry really hard at her wedding, which will be at the Montauk Yacht Club.
Ashley: And then she’ll never see you display emotion again.
Jennifer: Well, when I become a grandmother I will be obligated to say things like “I don’t like the ice to get lonely” while drinking gin, because you know Grandma Cici on Gossip Girl is my role model. I don’t know. If it’s a son, I mean…
Ashley: You’d just ship him off to boarding school and that would be that.
Jennifer: Yeah, well, makes them tough. Means they can marry a nice girl who had a beloved childhood pony one day.
Ashley: And it teaches them how to give a blowjob!
Jennifer: That too! Me and my future son will never, ever talk about that.
Ashley: But you’ll see it, in his smile.






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