Thursday, October 20, 2011

My baby's a prankster in the making. Send intervention.

Dear Baby,

Honestly, darling, how much more do you want Mommy to take? The cramping and bleeding -- I'm getting used to that. It's been a month and a half now. Still creeps me out when you wake me up with it and I go to the bathroom with blood, but you know, I figure you're a prankster and my life is going to be delicious hell when you come home one day with a poisonous toad in your pocket. It's okay. I still love you.

But next time, please don't join forces with the nurses to scare the crap out of me with vague answering machine messages like, "Can you call me back at your earliest convenience?" Your mother is going to die of a heart attack and you're going to be the one brownieless because Daddy (probably) can't bake.

Remember the brownies.

And don't try to make me think you don't like them. I know you do, because I'm craving them right now.


Your Mother

P.S. If I ever become pregnant with your sibling and you tell her some of your evil pranks while in the womb, you're going to be grounded until you're 60.

No comments:

Post a Comment