Not too long ago, my wife gave into my incessant demands for "quality time". For a woman, Quality Time means time spent in conversation. For men, "quality time" it means time spent naked. It's not like I get to spend a lot of real "quality time" with my wife, she usually screws it up by wanting to talk. I guess I caught her at a weak moment. Either she was asleep, or had just got done watching Highlander. She had this thing for Adrian Paul, we look a lot a lot. He is tall, dark, handsome, and has a sexy accent. I'm tall and it was dark.
My wife checked the calendar and decided that the timing was right and that it was unnecessary for us to use birth control. She even waved the normal 3 hours of begging and the customary shopping spree. I guess she wanted to get it over before the commercial was finished. Unbeknownst to her, My sperm cells are all Commando trained and excellent swimmers. One of those badass little swimmers waited until the time was right, no one was looking, and struck with malice and precision.
My wife was suddenly infected with child.
When she informed me of the blessed event (by throwing stuff at me and screaming at me,) I asked her if I was the father, after all I do spend a lot of time at sea. She looked at me and replied "I dunno." "What?" She then said, "I'm not even sure I'm the mother."
My wife is carrying an alien baby!
Now I might pick on my wife from time to time, but she deserves some credit. She's been putting up with my goofy ass for eight years. She's 34 and a redhead. And pregnant. Redheads are normally mean as hell, Living with a pregnant redhead (with the same birthday as my mama) made me consider joining the witless protection program.
It wasn't an easy pregnancy. The wife is getting a little long in the tooth to be spitting out kids. She was sore all the time, she couldn't get around very well. She ended up with gestational diabetes, which means she was on a very restrictive diet and had to check her blood sugar every five minutes. Checking your blood sugar involves stabbing yourself in the finger repeatedly so as to get a drop of blood to test. She's redheaded, pregnant, on a diet, and stabbing herself repeatedly. I took to sleepingin the yard. Due to the pregnancy complications, I was transferred from my Might Oiler to Temporary shore duty until after the baby was born.
Our baby was due Oct 16.
October 16 came and went.
The wife was pissed. She went digging in the cabinets for a corkscrew. She wanted this infestation out. The baby kept growing and rolling around kicking the crap out of her mama from the inside. Finally, on October 28th, they decided that the baby had cooked long enough and was probably done. I sent out the following announcement to all of our friends and family.....
"As you may know, or at least you should know, we are having a baby. Many of you have asked where is this baby? We have been asking the same question ourselves. Our baby, Rebecca Catherine Wall was supposed to be here on October 16, 1998. She wasn't. Just like her father, she shows signs of being perpetually late. She is currently barricaded in her mother's womb and refuses to surrender to authorities. All attempts at negotiation have failed. Tomorrow we are having the SWAT team remove her.
We have an appointment at the hospital at 7am tomorrow morning. The procedure as I understand it involves strapping my wife to a Sears paint mixer and turning it on until the baby is shaken out. As soon as she is forcibly expelled from her nice warm, safe, environment into the loving arms of her father, I will let you all know."
At the hospital the next morning they started the labor induction process. It started off easy enough. Contractions started at about 15-20 minutes apart. Once every 2 hours, we were allowed to go for a walk. This time was usually spent with me being pelted by berries and pinecones. "This is all your fault, You did this to me!" she yelled. When I replied, "No it ain't my fault, you could of swallowed", she then started throwing rocks. But it was okay. I could run faster than she could waddle.
At about 3am, they decided that she was dilated enough for the baby to come out and she could start pushing. She was dilated enough for a normal baby to come out, but not that big fat headed baby of mine. I felt like crap. I hadn't slept for more than 24 hours, and my wife is in more pain than I'd ever seen any one human being endure. When the Doc came in and offered her drugs, I tried to order a round for the house. I figured we all needed some relief. About 5 am, they discovered that the baby had taken a dump inside the womb. I'm not cleaning THAT up. They quickly wheeled us all into the Operating Room just in case an emergency C-Section was necessary.
At 5:30am, my daughter was born. Her head was too big to come out so they had to cut my wife in half with a chainsaw to make room. Now every picture of newborns I had ever seen, I thought the damn babies looked like little lizards. Ugly little alien bastards. All except my baby. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. When I held her in my arms, I cried like a little girl.
Well, were all home now. I never knew anything so little and cute could shit so much. That's all she does. Lay there looking cute and constantly shit. When she gets cranky, her mom sticks a breast in her mouth. When I get cranky, I'm told to shut up and go away. Where's my breast? Babies got it easy.
I e-mailed out the birth announcements.....
"Thursday Morning at approximately 7:30 officials began negotiations with a young female terrorist who had barricaded herself in her bedroom and refused to come out. After repeated pleas from the young girls mother to give herself up were ignored, Officials were forced to use chemical irritants. The young terrorist continued to struggle and resist efforts to remove her from the premises. At 5:30 am this morning Specialists were able to coax her into surrendering after a grueling 22 hour standoff. The young terrorist and her mother are in the hospital undergoing observation. Both are well, although the terrorist will break out in tears from time to time at the thought of having been cruelly ejected from the only home she has ever known.
Our daughter, Rebecca Catherine Wall was born at 5:30 am. 9lbs, 8oz - 21.5 inches - 10 fingers, 10 toes. All parts seem to be working well. Especially her ass."
I never thought I would feel this way, but a newborn daughter is a lot more fun to hold than a guitar. Hell, it's a lot more fun than just about anything I can think of.
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