Those of you who know me may be spitting out your coffee/wine/water right now, but my midwife has confirmed what I (we) already knew! "You are PERFECT," were her words. "Textbook. 33.5 centimeters at 33 and a half weeks." I'm slightly competitive so these words filled me with overindulgent pride. I had to hold my ears in to get through the door, as my mom would say.
When I was in college, a rowing teammate of mine (we'll call her AS to protect her anonymity) said to me after a practice, "You are competitive and you always have to be right." I shrugged it off and went home to my suite mates and asked (we'll call her) Clizzaire, "Do you think I'm competitive and I always have to be right?" "NOOOoooo." She said.
About 6 months later, Clizzaire we were having a discussion and she said, "Remember when you asked me if I thought you were competitive and always had to be right?" "Yeah." "Well, I lied, you are all those things." "Oh," I answered, "You are just jealous because you know I'm right!!"
By the way, if Amy Singler, an old rowing teammate of mine is out on the Internet and finds this, I think I still owe you money and feel terrible about it! I think I offered to knit for you in exchange for my debt and I'm sure that sounded totally ridiculous to you, so if you contact me, I'll send you an actual check for the money!
3 comments:
You aren't perfect, but close. Very close.
Giving birth to a redheaded baby girl will make you perfect.
"You can ring my beeelll, ring my beelll, my bell, myyy bell. Waoooo!"
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