My husband and children have put me up for adoption.

They tell me that it’s nothing personal,

I’m terrific. Really great.

Just a little too this and not enough that.

I would probably be the perfect fit for another family.

They pour through the living room and oohh and aahh at the shiny floors.

They sample the scone and give flakey layers of compliments.

Can she parallel park a massive SUV? they ask.

No, my husband says sadly. Sometimes she has to circle the block numerous times to find a spot.

Some press their lips together and file out the back door to the bountiful vegetable garden.

What’s with the chin hairs and the cellulite? one asks my husband.

I know, he says, ongoing maintenance issues.

More file out, remarking on the hand stenciling over the door

One man with three kids remains. Will she love us?  they ask.

Beyond words and dust and crumbs and silence, my family says.

They sign the paperwork with shaky hands and quivering lips but

The man and the three kids cling to me and call me perfect.

***