The Good Life
Have you ever had just totally random thoughts? Well tonight I began kicking around the idea of what it must be like to be a fetus. I mean think about it. They've got it good. You've got a nice cozy not-to-warm-not-to-cold place to be. All the food you need is brought right to you. You don't even need to chew! Quality time with Mom. Chillin for nine months in some amniotic fluid. I think it would be very cozy, but not too squishy. You can do things like suck your thumb and people think its cute. I miss being a fetus. I mean, it's not like you're just sitting on your duff. Growing is hard work! But you don't have to worry about deadlines or time cards or rising inflation. (You leave that to Mom and Dad.) Yea, totally the good life.
Unfortunately, fetuses (feti?) don't have it that easy these days. In fact, one of the most dangerous places to be is your mother's womb. Talk about messed up! That should be the safest place on this planet! But fetuses everywhere are being torn to shreds at the beckoning of their mothers. This thought brought my happy revelry to a crashing horrible halt. Something must be done. It was one of the most horrible thoughts I have ever had in my eighteen years. I pictured myself as a fetus, having a grand old time and then being torn to shreds. I think I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight. I then pictured myself as a teenage girl who just found out she was pregnant. Um, nope. It's not cutting it. That would be uber scary too, & I really couldn't imagine. But I'm definitely going to have to go with the baby on this one. I ask you, really, truly picture the same things I did and then ask yourself if its a child or a choice.
Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us!