So, what were we talking about? Oh right. If you KNEW, with 100% certainty that TODAY was going to be the last infertile day of your life, what would you do?
I mean, okay, I don't know how you know...maybe your great great aunt came to you in a dream from the great great beyond...
The point is: You KNOW for a fact that this will be the last infertile day of your life.... What would you do?
Yeah, yeah, I know, you'd thank GD and your doctors and maybe your family for being so supportive (if they were supportive) ...but I'm not as noble as you... I'd do all that... and then I'd have a few scores to settle too.
"Hi Mary? This is Lori, your neighbor. Could you come over to my house right away? I'm just having a little get-together and I just can't have it without you. Believe me... I can't. And bring that woman who lives next to you. The one with the yellow shutters that look like someone peed on them. "
"Hi Lisa? This is Lori, from work. Come right over will ya? And bring those other nasty wenches in your department also."
"Hi Phyllis? This is Lori your sister-in-law. I need you here in the next fifteen minutes. I'm sure you can get a flight."
"So, ladies. You may wonder why I've asked all of you here today. Well, first I just wanted to tell you, nevermind how I know, but that this time tomorrow I will be pregnant."
(Group: "Oh Lori, that's fantastic...wow, finally...)
"Okay, that's enough. Yeah, you're all happy for me, I get it. Doo Da. That's not why I asked all of you here. So everyone please listen up. I'm going to make this fast, so don't expect refreshments.
So, Mary, you and your neighbor with the urine house, I don't know your name...No no that's okay, no time for introductions...Now that I'm going to be pregnant you can stop asking me if we're still trying to have kids.
Do you people have such little lives, you can't come up with anything new to say? Every block party and barbecue. Every time I run into you people at the supermarket you ask if we're still trying.
Some nights when my husband and I are getting romantic, I think of you people. Seriously, I want to call you up and say: "Hey Betty, or Debbie, or Sephronia, or whatever the hell your name is: My husband and I will be trying again in about twenty minutes. I'll leave the shades up so you can see I'm telling the truth."
And Lisa from work over there with the other losers in your department. So I hear I have no kids because either my husband won't have kids with me until I go to rehab OR I do have kids... with a guy in Mexico. So which is it?
I guess because I speak Spanish, the natural conclusion is I learned it because I have children living with my lover in Mexico and I want to be able to communicate with their nanny.
The rehab story seed, as best I can remember, was planted about six months ago. I seem to recall being in the cafeteria at work with my plain yogurt, turkey breast on whole grain bread and side salad when the bunch of you entered with so many KFC buckets I thought maybe they were empty and you brought them because the ceiling was leaking.
But no, the four of you sat down and consumed about thirty chicken coopsful all by yourselves and drowned them and a country fair's worth of biscuits in liters and liters of soda. You looked over at me between crispy chomps and mumbled something about how I must have an eating disorder. I looked back as I cleansed my arteries and dubbed you the "Department of Greasy Slobs".
And for my lovely sister-in-law Phyllis. You're an idiot. I did all the stupid things you suggested. I called the woman with nine kids to see what her secret was. Your brother and I had sex while watching "Jon & Kate" and "Kate plus 8" and "Jon & Kate on Divorce Court".
I even did the sperm facial. You know nothing about anything. You keep telling me you're in the health field. You're a receptionist at a dentist's office. Please stop practicing medicine without a license before you hurt someone or I hurt you.
Thank you for coming ladies. I'm so glad we had this chat. Now, all of you. Please leave my house.
Listen, I gotta go. It was great getting all that off my chest. Wow I feel like a "B" cup.
I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.