Okay, so at first, both Henky and I were pregnant at the same time. I was pregnant with . . . I think maybe Mitch's kid, and Henky was pregnant with ours, hers and mine. [For the ignorant: Henky is an old friend of mine, oldest I have left, but I haven't seen her since Dec. 24th and haven't spoken to her since March; we're not in a fight or anything, I don't think, she just was always "busy" when I asked her to do stuff, and I got tired of calling all the time. We'll be friends again later, I'm sure. All this is irrelvant, I'm just trying to preclude "who the hell is Henky?" comments.] And I didn't really find any of this out until we were in our like third trimester, and all of a sudden I discovered I was pregnant and I was kind of like, "aw, maaan." So then Mitch offered to take it off my hands, because he's such a gentleman, and then HE was pregnant, and it was weird to see a guy pregnant. Then Henky had her baby, so I was holding it, but then all of a sudden Henky wasn't in the picture, the father was some dude, some older guy, either Indian or African. So we were trying to decide on a name, and he kept coming up with these long Indian or African names, and I was like, dude, I have no problem choosing an unusual name, I think that would be really cool, but for Pete's sake pick something PRETTY! These ones you're giving me are AWFUL!
So then I'm pregnant myself again, or still, and also trying to pick out names with Mitch, who of course doesn't want to have a kid and isn't helping. Well, doesn't want me to have a kid, anyway, because then we would never be able to hang out anymore. I don't think he planned on being too involved. And so I'm walking around with this huge freaking BELLY, thinking, thank God I didn't notice until so late, because this SUCKS. And for some reason I figured that since I hadn't known I was pregnant, that all the alcohol and pot wouldn't have affected the kid, wouldn't count. And I remember walking up stairs, and it was so difficult, and the damn thing felt so HEAVY, and it made me feel like I had to pee all the time, but when I put my hands on it I could feel her kicking, which was kind of cool, but I just wanted her OUT. And I was like, "sweet, tomorrow is the due date, I'll have the baby tomorrow, thank God," and I had to keep reminding myself that the baby doesn't necessarily come out on the due date. And also I realized that now that I had no choice in the matter, I was actually kind of looking forward to having a kid and raising her to be really smart and really cool.
So that's how you know it's a dream, because that would never happen.