Mama stood out there in the back lot long after all the others had left. Tears rolled down her cheeks and froze on her tattered collar. She’d never had a child her own, and not for lack of trying. She’d bedded nearly every man here at the museum in her younger days from Mr. Averady right down Terry the World’s Shortest Man.

She had been disgusted at first, but her need for a child overrode her need for self. However as she had grown older the men had taken less of an interest in her. Her novelty had worn off. Back then she was the prettiest woman at the museum, but now she was a worn out old hag with three breasts and no teeth.

The children didn’t care though, they never did. They loved her just the same, they treated her like royalty. She cared for them and they cared for her right back, but times were changing. Fewer and fewer babies were brought to the museum, and those still here were getting older and dying.

Mama thought about that for a long time. How nice it must be to not have to suffer anymore.