Now some of you might go all smug on me here, and claim that I can only count a child as mine, if I actually delivered the babe from my very own girthy abs. To which I roll my eyes while explaining...condescendingly ...HE-LLOOO...I had it VICARIOUSLY, people. Duh. Through my sister? And since she used the name I had previously mentioned I would have used, should I have had another daughter...well, I think it's pri-tty clear that she had my baby.
I also think it goes without saying that anyone willing to gain sympathy weight and/or grow a burly flesh sack along with the baby mama, well, she deserves to receive the newborn child as a parting gift.
Sort of like a SWAG-BAG. A baby swag-bag that was left over from the Emmys.
Anyway, I've taken possession of this little girl...if not physically, then at the very least mentally, emotionally and spiritually. And I'll admit it's probably best this way~that someone else should lactate and suffer excruciating after-birth pains rather than me, on account of my Princess and the Pea fragile constitution. Plus, lest I forget, I'll always have the tangible manifestation of this vicarious pregnancy in the form of burly sag flesh sack remnants.......
........maybe I can fill it with potatoes. Or onions.
Oh, no, wait. That's burlap. Never mind.
P.S.~2nd visit to Zupas...