The other day I was at Target when Nathan was insisting on standing up in the cart. I couldn’t strap him in because there was only ONE belt! He is definitely a two-belt belly. And why is it that shopping carts are so disappointing? I’m surprised no engineer has figured out how to make shopping a more seamless experience. I was struggling with him because he was pushing my hands off the handle bar like no, mother, you will push this thing with your boobs.
Then I realized this teenager had been watching me the whole time. She was at a rack nearby, flipping through hangers of pink rompers.
“Is it cause cause, um, I’m thinking of having a baby.” She spouted off wistfully.
“What did you say?”
And in booming THX sound she repeated in a slow confident tone, “I’m thinking of having a baby. Is it hard?”
I scanned around for that director John Hughes because how dare she pull me into her after-school special! Why are you asking me if babies are difficult? Is the Pope Catholic? Does a bear shit in the woods? Would the Pope shit in the woods if he were a bear? Would a bear be Catholic if he were the Pope?
“Yes!” I retorted. “Babies are very difficult!” I wasn’t about to add, “Yes, but it’s so worth it,” because that’s the kind of reasoning she was looking for, something to add to the case she’ll make to her friends before homeroom begins. She saw some mom at Target who said it ain’t so bad and hey what time are we watching High School Musical 2 tonight?
She had moved onto another rack before I could say that she should invest her money elsewhere, like into an brand-new Aston Martin because it’ll cost the same. What I really wanted to tell her was that motherhood is the most humbling experience. Then I´d add in a low whisper, “But your vagina will stretch out so far, you’ll feel like a two-car garage.”
What better deterrent to teenage pregnancy is there than a flappy vag? Or droopy, deflated, dog jowel boobs? Or as my friend Lisa said, having sex with you will feel like “throwing a hot dog down a hallway.”