All I wanted to do was watch How I Met Your Mother.
That's all I've ever wanted.
I was sitting on Sarah's couch watching the show, rolling sushi (shout out to E. Bailey Sterling for teaching me the ways of the homemade california roll) and generally having myself a good ol' time when I was suddenly overcome by the sensation that my insides were being kneaded vigorously by a particuarly large bodybuilder who seemed to be in dire need of some stress relief.
I'll spare you the gory details and just say that one thing was clear: my stomach wanted out of my body. What wasn't clear was which way it wanted to go.
I just kept thinking, "Why, body, WHY are you rebelling against me?"
And that's when I heard a tiny voice...
Tiny Voice: I'll tell you why...
Me: Who is this?
Tiny Voice: It's your body.
Me: If you're really my body, why don't you sound like me?
Tiny Voice: Well, the truth is you're probably hallucinating due to pain, which would explain why I sound more like a leprechaun than your actual voice.
Me: Why are you doing this to me?
Tiny Voice: Well, Emily, let's think about that. What reason could I possibly have for wishing you terrible, excruciating pain?
Me: ...this isn't about last week, is it?
Tiny Voice: Oh! So you DO remember! Why, yes, Emily, it is about last week. Tell me, can you remember anything you might have done to me last week to make me a tad angry with you?
Me: I...no.
Tiny Voice: Really? Really. Really?
Me: Okay! Of course I remember, jeez.
Tiny Voice: Go on...
Me: I stuffed you full of soda and Little Debbies.
Tiny Voice: And...?
Me: And I ate at every fast food restaurant in sight.
Tiny Voice: And how do you think that made me feel?
Me: (Rolling my mind's eye) It made you feel like traaaashhhhh.
Tiny Voice: Don't patronize me! I don't think you're fully considering how much power I hold over you!
Me: I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Please, just make it stop.
Tiny Voice: I'm not sure you deserve that.
Me: But I've changed my ways, Body! I've been putting healthy food in you for three days!
Tiny Voice: Well just consider this a warning then. I'm going to continue your punishment for two full hours, after which I will loosen my iron grip and allow you to sleep.
Me: Thanks, Body. You're the best.
Tiny Voice: Now you're just being a suck up.
Me: Sorry.
And that is the story of how I almost died.
Theeeee Ennnnnnnd
1 comment:
Last week a friend of mine who has three children said, "How would you describe the feeling of contractions?" And I said it felt like my stomach/uterus was being kneaded like a ball of dough. Truth by told it feels exactly like having a horrible case of stuffed-myself-with-little-debbies. And now you know what to expect.
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