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Truck Full of Babies

As I type this, I am suffering some cramps that pinged their way past the Advil and my post-op knee twinges every so often.  Then again, my sister is in hard labor. Back labor.   (But the knee!  It twinges!  When I climb steps!)

Will The Smaller Child Nephew, as of last night, was processing his pending big brotherdom by hurling every doll baby he could find into a big plastic dump truck, then shoving the cargo around, announcing, "Truck full of babies!"  Because that's where they come from.  The Big Yellow Dump Truck of Doom pulls up in front of the house, dispatches a baby, and suddenly you aren't the center of attention anymore.

As for me, I went to a doctor's appointment, ran to the grocery, and entered the gym while my sister lay in a stiff hospital bed, desperately awaiting the epidural.  I wished I had a tee shirt:  "ASK ME ABOUT MY IN-LABOR SISTER."

This is the last time we'll go through this, for Baby The Third is the end of the road.  I must enjoy the vicariousness whilst I can.  So I'm off to drink.

pink Champagne or blue curacao? at:  mbe@drinktothelasses.com

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