Wednesday, April 07, 2004

Dean's adorable wife, Rosemary, relates to us a human-interest story. Which begs the question, I know, are there really very many non-human-interest stories? Don't get me started on the fact that it came from Reuters...I'm really surprised the article didn't discuss "root causes" of Mexican poverty being the US-led invasion of Iraq...

In any case, it seems as if the bulk of her commenters seem to think men wouldn't do the same thing. Posh, I say. I might even go so far as to utter a "piffle!" or two.

Because I can easily see that if men had babies, this sort of thing would be happening all the time.

Granted, the context would be slightly different... Let's drop in the typical home with the expectant father, about 30 minutes before the do-it-yourself Caesarean:

Wife: Are you all packed? Are you ready to go? My goodness, it looks like you are about to pop!
Husband: Just a minute. They just went into overtime. It should be over in about 15 minutes, and I've got $20 on this one. Argh!
Wife: Are you okay? Did you just have a bad contraction?
Husband: No, the Pats just turned it over on their own 40-yard line! What were they doing passing on 2nd down, anyway! Aw, crap, they scored on the runback. Okay, let's go.
Wife: Now, you know the way to the hospital, right?
Husband (starting the car and backing out): Yeah, sure.
Wife: You looked up the route, right?
Husband: Umm, yeah.
Wife: You didn't, did you?
Husband: But they've got signs and stuff, don't they? No problem.

[45 minutes later]

Wife: Honey, you're looking kind of pale. Your contractions are only a few minutes apart. I think you're going to have the baby and the hospital is no where in sight!
Husband: It's gotta --ungh!-- be here somewhere!
Wife: Pull over and ask for directions.
Husband: No! I'll, um, you know, I think...I...might just...need a...C-section. Yeah, that's the ticket. Hey, babe, run into that convenience store and get me a pack of picnic knives and a 6-pack of Budweiser.
Wife: Budweiser!?!?!
Husband: Yeah, you're right. Make it a Coors Light. Hey, get it? You're going into a C-store to get me some tools for a C-section! Ha-ha--ungh!

I figure it would happen just like that, and so often that it wouldn't be in the news anymore. Men would rather slit their own stomach open rather than ask for directions. So, in the end, Mrs. Esmay is correct: It's just as well men don't have the babies.

9:59 PM