I'll Have a Little Fries with My Ketchup...

So... have you had ketchup lately? I just went to Wendy's with my sis, ordered a salad and a small fry, and found that I could've saved $5 and just ordered ketchup. The fries were really just a way to shovel the ketchup into my mouth. I honestly think that if I had been alone, I would've just taken shots of the delicious condiment by itself. All hail the MIGHTY KETCHUP!

So the baby has been kicking and all of that, and it's so cool. Really, really awesome. That's all I have to say about that. "What?!" you exclaim? "You're only devoting 2 sentences to something pregnancy related?"... I'm not done with the post just yet, so bite yer tounge<---said in a most annoying texas twang. Notice that I did not capitalize texas. I REFUSE!

So, I've been thinking. About this whole birth thing. And it seems to me that it was VERY POORLY DESIGNED. In December, a 6-8 pound person is going to claw their way OUT OF MY VAGINA. Nice, huh? There will most likely be ripping and tearing (shiver!!) and blood and other random fluids... might be pooping on the table, which I'm beginning to realize is a popular fear among the pregnant. If *I* had designed birth, the kid would gently pry his way out of your belly button pain-free, emerge fully clothed and diapered, totally clean, with a 12-pack in hand as a thank you to mama for carrying him in her womb for 9 freaking months, and to daddy for putting up with mama's crap the whole time.