You say it’s your birthday
It seems like yesterday I was walking through the fish section at a grocery store in New Jersey and nearly vomited. I forget the name of the store, but it was small. It didn’t even have a bulk section. Let me repeat. There was no bulk section. (audible gasp) What do people do if they only want one cinnamon disc, one tootsie roll, a caramel cream and a single root beer barrel? I live in Western New York, the birthplace of the most incredible grocery store in the world: Wegmans. What is Wegmans? Oh, it’s just heaven on earth. In addition to affordable grocery prices there is a huge selection of prepared foods and desserts. This grocery store is better than some restaurants.
I didn’t puke in the seafood section in that Jersey store, but I realized my life was about to change. No, I wasn’t going to join the fight to stop cruelty to crustaceans. I was going to become a mother. I peed on a half a dozen sticks before admitting I was a pregnant. I was 25-years-old, unmarried and working as a nanny. This was not part of my plan. I had just graduated college. Plus, I never imagined myself with children. Nothing mattered more to me than having a successful career. I cannot have this baby. The people I worked for encouraged me to have an abortion. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not going to buy a box of crayons, make signs and stand in front of a clinic, but thank God I couldn’t do it. Speaking of poorly made protestor signs, if you believe in a cause so much that you are willing to stand on a corner and scream, could you spend more than two minutes on your sign? I don’t know, use a ruler or a dictionary. Perhaps you could even splurge and buy some stickers. Tibet’s freedom depends on it.
My son just celebrated his 14th birthday. He is a smart, funny, caring young man. He can also be a giant a-hole. It’s nearly impossible for teenagers to answer a question without sounding snotty. Is it too late to abort? I am kidding. I love him anyway.
I didn’t give up on a career. In fact, I worked my way up (without getting on my knees) to become a news reporter. It just turned out that my life plan sucked. A job couldn’t give me what I really needed: saggy breasts and stretch marks true love and happiness.
2 Comments
Kelly
It’d be nice if the saggy bonds and stretch marks left when the babies leave. Maybe even by the time they become toddlers, anyway…
Kelly
*boobs
(Why would my “smart phone” think I would want to talk about bonds?! Not so smart, phone.)