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November 26th, 1999

The Last Crusade

Congrats to Carole Hathaway and her new bouncing brood! How'd ya like that ER, huh? I adore that show. Nothing rings in the Thanksgiving spirit like a couple of hours with your legs in the stirrups! Now if only she could get that sexy daddy of theirs to stop making really bad movies and come on back to do some diaper changing, I'd be a happy gal indeed. George, are you paying attention here?

I loved being pregnant. I really did. Nothing compares to the liberation you feel putting on that size 80 floral Muu-Muu for the very first time.

The only problems I had during my four pregnancies were with the Daddy-to-be. It's not entirely his fault. Men just have very little understanding of this portion of our lives. Here are a few short tips to help them along. After all, it's my opinion and you're entitled to it.

A Pregnancy Guideline for the Daddy-to-be

The First Three months: While you are unable to tell at this early stage, our bodies are going through rapid changes. Compare this to the onset of football season. You know how you feel when preseason starts? Sort of jittery? Excited but apprehensive? In need of a chili-cheese dog with extra onions? Well, that's the beginning of pregnancy. And, although we may still appear to be the same woman you married, inside we are not. A great portion of these first three months you'll merely see us hanging over a toilet bowl but you'll still recognize us because we will be flipping you the finger. You are responsible for putting us in this predicament. We won't let you forget that.

Three to Six months: This second trimester of our pregnancy is easily summed up in three little words. Eat, eat, eat. I don't care what the experts are telling you, we are eating for two and we will stick to that story until you pry the last donut from our cold, dead hands. It's important you support us in our time of need and not argue. Of course we may not seem logical to you, but who are you to judge? You're the same guy we met at college party while you were slamming beer bongs dressed in a toga.

Please pay close attention to the following. It's an important pregnancy lesson.

"Honey, I need some Wild Cherry LifeSavers."

"'s three in the morning. Go back to sleep."

"You don't love me. That's okay. I would hate to inconvenience you by asking you to give up an hour of your time. My nine months of servitude here safely harboring your child within my womb just can't hold a candle to your one hour of sleep. I'll just drag myself out of bed and call my Dad. I am sure he'll go get them for me."

And, if we send you out to do a chore, do not lose sight of how important your job truly is. If you go to the store and there are no Wild Cherry LifeSavers to be found within one hundred miles of the city limits, do not accept a substitute just so you can get back to bed. Think of yourself as Indiana Jones on his Last Crusade. Come home without the Wild Cherry LifeSavers - and it's your Last Crusade. Make sense?

"What are these?"

"Passion Fruit LifeSavers. They didn't have any Cherry ones at the Quick-E-Mart."

"Wow. You went all the way to the corner for me? Wow. That is all I can say."

"Hey, ouch! Stop it. You hit me in the eye with that green one."

"Green one? No, honey! That was a Key West Lime LifeSaver. Not a green one. And, most importantly, not a red one either!"

"You are being so childish. Just because you're pregnant does not mean you get to do whatever you want to."

"You're right. I don't get to do whatever I want to. I don't get to sleep in without throwing up every morning when I smell your aftershave. And I don't get to wear my regular clothes anymore. And I don't get to eat hamburgers anymore because they remind me of your after shave. Thanks to you I don't get to do anything I want anymore!"

"It takes two to tango, you know."

"Well, then you must be Fred Astaire. Oh no, I take that back. I am sure Fred would have gotten Ginger some Cherry LifeSavers. You're just a selfish ass."

"Okay, I am going to go get you your stupid LifeSavers. But I want you to know that I am going only so I can shut you up, not because I actually care. Is that perfectly clear?"


Don't challenge us or you will return from your crusade only to find yourself trapped in a Pregnancy Paradox.

::knock on door::

"Honey? I can't get the door open."

"That's because I moved the piano in front of it."

"My God, the piano? Should you be moving such heavy things in your condition?"

"As if you care. I'll have you know that I'm moving for two now. I have twice the energy."

"Are you going to let me in? I have your Cherry LifeSavers."

"I don't need them anymore. Dad just left. He wants me to call a divorce lawyer in the morning. He cannot believe how poorly you are treating me during my time of crisis."

"What? That's stupid. All of this for Cherry LifeSavers? You cannot possibly want a divorce over a Cherry LifeSaver. You are not seriously going to call a lawyer, are you?"

"No, I don't want to wait. I am walking backwards around the coffee table right now. As soon as I do it three times and say, "I divorce thee, I divorce thee, I divorce thee," you can pack your bags and move out. In some cultures it is a crime against humanity to bring a Key Lime LifeSaver into a marriage. You need help."

"That has nothing to do with candy. I've heard of that ceremony. It's from the ancient Wtamaba tribe in Borneo. And unless I walk around the table with you, it's not valid."

"Well, I was thinking we could appeal to their Chief. I don't want to make you have to count to three. That is an awful lot of time for a busy man like you to give up. I think he might let us go on that technicality."

"Okay, you've made your point. Just open the door would you."

"I can't. The piano is in the way."

"Well, just move it back to where you got it from."

"In my condition? Are you crazy?"

Please forever keep in mind that we are doing an extremely difficult job. It is not easy sharing your body with a child. You can't even share your remote. Just imagine.

Six months to Nine months: Just get the hell out of our way. Simple enough.

Birth: Until you successfully commandeer a Volkswagen out of your anal region, don't ever tell me I am complaining too much during labor. There is no complaining too much during labor. The mere fact you walk away from the delivery room with your body parts intact and not wearing your testicles around your neck like a bow-tie should tell you I was not complaining too much during labor.

You're welcome.


Unless otherwise specified, all material
Copyright 1999 by
Marijke Hildreth



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