Great Expectations

"It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair." - Charles Dickens


Ah, spring is in the air.

And the pregnant women are all over Wally World.

They stand amidst the racks of tiny clothing, abesntmindedly stroking their melonous bellies with a peaceful contentedness.

Why should I take affront to their fronts? "Yes Ma'am, I do stroke my belly, Ma'am. But not at you, Ma'am."

After four children, I think I have done my part. My poor tummy has been stretched from hither to yon and bears the marks to prove it. It looks like a relief map of downtown Houston, for cryin out loud!

And there is no way in HELL I'd ever go through labor again. . . what is wrong with me???

I guess it is just a passing hormonal whim, like a star that has burned out long ago but who's light is still visible from earth. A ghostly craving. . .boom boom boom, let's go back to my womb.

Really, by the time I made the checkout line, which was chock-full of screaming infants, I was completely over it. I should, at this point in my life, be bracing myself for impending grandparenthood.

Oh my gosh, I hope my teens will wait a while and let me catch my breath from the first round!

Have fun!