Only a few days ago I celebrated my being exactly three months gone. What a happy occasion, a real shower of memories, (to) the best of my recollection. But.. nobody has noticed yet. And so there is this one question knocking about my brain.. Shouldn’t it be beginning to show? Shouldn’t it.. by now? Well, it does, but not the way it should.
Foreign as he is to me, this little monster I am carrying around, we hit it off and have been friends ever since. Or so I thought. Would a friendly creature keep you up at night and round off your stomach? Would he grow on and in you with such velocity and bent? Not being for this world yet, would he cry for your full time and attention? Would he kick so soon, so.. hard?
Looks like this self-indulgence he’s performing on me is far from symbiotic. No fruit will be born, sorry. I have a parasite. An unborn teenager on speed.
Terminate.. then? Hasta la vista, baby? “I’ll be back”, clatters the kicker in Morse code. Well, I’ll wait for the labour then and see if I can bear it. I might even want to keep the thing, should I find resemblance. I probably will. Six months to go and he’s already like the mom-me. A troublemaker.
No comments:
Post a Comment