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July 1, 2007

It is a cool and lovely sunday morning and my children and I are sitting on the sofa vegging out. I flip on the TV and look for something kid friendly and not a cartoon and we find a dinasaur thing and a birthing babies type show. I flip back and forth between them to avoid commericals.

The birthing show is at that point where the mama is in her tub at home and having her baby and their little boy is there watching his mama. I am thinking about Spawn and how I wished I had had Chica-Poo at home but am so happy about her birth. I look at the little boy watching his mama and daddy on TV and ask Spawn,

“Sweetie, do you wish you had been there when your sister was born?”

“Uh, no.” Spawn says curtly but in a polite tone.

I think to myself for a moment and try to imagine what it would have been like. I remember all the screaming, vomitting and screaming and vomitting and nakedness while screaming and vomitting and say, “Well, yea, mama screamed a lot.”

Spawn smiles at me and looks at me for just a second and says with a slight laugh, “Well, yea. I would think so.”

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