Yesterday was supposed to be the day. The weather was beautiful, my husband and I were both available, and I had 9/14/14 in the "guess the baby's arrival date" pool. It was a done deal; especially after our daughter called before nine to let us know they were heading to the hospital.
So why am I still grandchild-less?
The hospital gave the usual song and dance as they sent my kid packing. "Go for a walk; call us when contractions are stronger; he's not quite ready."
Not quite ready? What kind of passive/aggressive diva (can a boy be a diva?) behavior is that?
Obviously, this child has no idea how many people are breathlessly waiting to meet him. He has no clue how many people are chomping at the bit to shower him with love and affection (and trips to Toys R Us). He can't begin to imagine the fun he's going to have once he gets a load of the crazy family he's about to be born into. If he did, he wouldn't be hunkered down in that claustrophobic nightmare he calls home and he would get his cute little butt (head first, if you please) out here.
His new digs are ready. His two sets of first-time grandparents are ready. And his mother is really ready.
I hate to say this but it looks like somebody has a little selfish streak in him.
No comments:
Post a Comment