Birth

Woowoo Charly is reading a book entitled "Birth" that our pregnant daughter sent us. It's a history of baby bearing and aborning and not a compartment on a train. That's a berth. Of course, they are pronounced the same, so I can understand your confusion. Periodically, she reads aloud a passage to me in her lifelong, but so far futile, attempt to educate, inform and enlighten not only me, but anyone else who may be within earshot. Yesterday she shot me in the ear with a chapter about midwives. Who would have guessed they were women who aided in the delivery of babies. I though those were storks. Midwives were the wives between your first marriage and your last. Anyway, midwives were apparently pretty useful back in the day until priests and doctors came along and declared them witches, took away their brooms, burned them at the stake and in their gingerbread houses and treated them in generally rude and unkind ways. After that, it didn't go so well for the pregnant mothers either. Instead of having motherly Molly and caring Katie helping them through the rough patches, they had Deacon Zacariah, Reverand Stern and Father Let-the girl-suffer-it's-God's-way standing by to help out. Makes me glad I'm a guy, but then I'm always glad I'm a guy even when I have to swap out car batteries. Just now Woowoo Chuck read me a part about how painful giving birth can be. This is something I don't understand at all. If it's so painful, why do women have more than one kid? I mean, I broke my leg back in high school and it hurt like hell. I've tried seriously to not break my leg again. There are six billion of us on the planet. Man that's a lot of pain. And did you know, (like I now do) that women used to give birth squatting, but after the men took over they made the ladies lie down because it was easier for them, the men? Did you want to know? Me neither. In fact I'm thinking of writing a book called "The Mystery of Birth And Well It Should Be." The first chapter will be about midhusbands. These will be the guys who help husbands stay in the waiting room and out of the delivery room. That's why they have waiting rooms, to wait in. Husbands aren't cheerleaders. They don't belong on the sidelines, they belong in the stands passing out cigars and getting pats on the back while saying that's my boy or that's my girl. And now in the background I'm hearing words like uterus and contractions and placenta. There's no need for this. These are not words men should know. Especially midhusbands. All they have to remember is "quit pacing and sit down. It's your deal."

Alrighty then. I've just shown this to Woowoo Charly and now she's stopped reading to me. In fact, she's stopped speaking to me altogether. Apparently she feels that men should be at their wive's bedsides during the birthing. Well, maybe she's right. When we have our next kid, I'll give it a try.