Is the day that Operation Baby Drop* is supposed to happen. Now I'm in a basic waiting game, which doesn't feel unlike waiting to be shot in the face.
Rather, shot in the bingbang.
I recall the ride at Disney World called "Tower of Terror," loosely based on and in the famed Hearst Castle which my family talked me --a person whom hates rides--into going on about ten years ago. It started off all cutesy, belying the world Terror in it's name, with cartoony ghosts joking and laughing just before the elevator you're sitting in gives way and you're shot 200 feet down in 2 seconds. This is where you poo your pants.
Remarkably, my family talked me into going on this ride again. Why I went through with it, I'll never understand, because taking the ride the second time was far scarier than the first. When those stupid little laughing ghosts came around, I knew they were up to no good, and I was just waiting for the drop, which certainly came and terrified me all over again.
I also never liked Jack-in-the Boxes as a kid, still don't. You turn the handle and the carnival-like tune starts to play and suddenly, BOOM, a creepy clown is violently shot up into your grill. Fun? Not exactly.
And so we wait.
*coined by newbluebaby
2 comments:
Well, at least you know it won't be as startling as the ride. Once your water breaks you still have hours before delivery time, and if you have the epidural, that combined with the rush of hormones should reduce a lot of the pain down there. Trust me. I've had no kids.
It would be cool if Young 'Un was born on St. Patricks Day. You could lie to them for years, telling them the parade and the parties were all for them.
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