Wednesday, March 3, 2010


So I was at a bridal shower a few weeks ago and we were having a GAY OLD TIME! There was chocolate and caffeine and polka dot table cloths and all was right with the world...when suddenly, I sniffed and whiffed a bride (fresh kill) that a mob of postnatal women (vultures) had circled in on. Poor dear. I could actually see her heart pounding 'neath her girlish mammaries as her eyes darted toward the front door for escape. But then the grandmother walked over and slowly twisted the lock. Aaaand so it began...

"You know, when I was pregnant, I got these whopping hemorrhoids. It felt like a grape was hanging out of my rectum for like, six months."

"Well, mine were worse. And when I gave birth, I tore. Like rrrrriiiiiiiippppp. It actually made a noise. And then they had to sew my bum and all my lower innards back inside."

"Ha! You think that's bad? I split in half. Literally. And they had to staple me. Four hundred and seventy seven steel clamps to put Humpty back together again."

A moment of silence to consider the last visual.

"Well, after I had baby Horace, he would NOT breast feed. My knockers were MAMMOTH! SOOOOO ENGORGED!"

"That's nothing. I got a breast infection that lasted eighteen years! Just try latching a suckling babe to a bleeding boob! THAT'S RIGHT~I SAID BLEEDING! Excruciating."

"Whatever. Get this. Both sides were engorged, then infected and THEN, my son actually bit my nipple in two. Mmm hmmm. And eventually, one day, Plop. They just up and fell off."

Another moment of silence and reverie.

We were shameless, folks. Scarlet letter outrageous. And I can't help but feel somehow responsible for the PYT backing~shrieking and screaming~out of the room...and the marriage...but it couldn't be helped. She had to know. And it was our duty (hand wringing pleasure) to inform her. And that's one case where the messenger probably should be shot.

Why do we do it? Nobody knows for sure. I think it's kind of like a sneeze~can't be restrained, is a natural urge and it just feels so FANTASTIC mid-spew. But the innocents face is left covered in flying mucus and snot, and there's no undoing the memory of being soiled with another person's boogs~or hemorrhoid/lactation narratives.

Anyway, I'm very disappointed in us~but mostly you. And that's because I don't think you've learned your lesson, cuz I can tell by your watery eyes that you're about to erupt once again with boogery tales and spew them all over another prenatal lassie.

Poor, poor lassie.

Don't worry~I'll hold her down.


Brenda @Just a Bed of Roses said...

Are you kidding me no one has commented yet and it's 7 p.m.
Lisa don't you ever quit this blog...I just need it after a long days work...freeway traveling...I just need your whit and sense of humor so I can laugh my problems away...wish you could have heard me. Oh, I will be back to read it again when I have the strength.

I am not adding my horror stories here as I have blocked them in the brain cells that you never want opened again. You did quite a good job covering it all...but I know your followers are going to try to out do you, they are just dusting the cobwebs from their brain cells and getting those stories ready to share here.

Krista said...

Yeah, why can't anyone share the stories like, "I didn't know I was pregnant and felt like I had to go to the bathroom really bad and out pops this baby." I guess then the bride might have a new problem of constipation - afraid a baby might come out if she poops. Now that's a good story!

Lisa said...

Brenda, it says it was around 11:00 AM, but it was actually posted around 6:30 PM. But thank you for your concern! Can't wait to hear your war stories! Bring 'em on!

Krista~yeah. I want one of those stories. That's why the "I didn't know I was pregnant" TV specials are so watched. Too amazing that you might think gas was akin to child birth.

Brenda @Just a Bed of Roses said...

Your followers are much better story tellers, I will just be entertained. Ahhh love them
I am much better at picking up the phone and ordering merchandise. Not near as exciting as horror stories at a bridal shower, and all brides must hear them, it wouldn't be right.

I will now forgive your followers, now that I know computers cant tell time.

Brenda @Just a Bed of Roses said...

I just thought of this: 4 babies, no epidural...whole lot of screaming. That was the days of the Super Mom...I earned my title.

kara elmore said...

Uhhh NO - I AM SUPER WOMAN! Home births! Yep - I am THE BEST PERSON OUT THERE! The rest of you can SUCK ROCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stupid stupid others .... I win!!!!


Ok - so really - I DID feel bad when this "incident" happened. And you're RIGHT - we couldn't stop. It kept SPEWING OUT! And one outdid the other ... until she was weeping. THE only thing that makes it better is it happened to ALL of us - and WHILE it was happening we were thinking the whole time ... "ohhh no you don't idiots ... MY life will be different - because I am in SO much more love than the rest of you... so your stories SUCK ROCKS because I WIN!"

YEP - that's what gets us through most of the horror inflicted on us by others.

Brenda @Just a Bed of Roses said...

AAAAAAmen Kara...about MY life will be different!