I don't know why we were on the topic of childbirth. Maybe we weren't. Maybe it was just something that happened to scoot through my 5-year-old brain and make its way to my mouth. Kids say the darndest things, right?
Anyway, I asked her what childbirth was like. It was probably phrased more like this: "Mommy, what is having a baby like?"
My mom is a complex person. She was raised very properly; that is to say, she possesses impeccable manners and uses them when the situation calls for them. She always emphasized to me how important it is to bring some kind of gift (dessert, wine, etc) when you're invited to someone's house. She also lectured me for an entire train ride across England about how to properly eat (I think she was worried I'd slurp soup or something in the presence of her fancy-shmancy relatives whom we were on our way to see). Stand up straight, don't chew your nails, wash behind your ears, etc.
But, my mother is also unpolished. She used to fart in the car and then roll down the front passenger window so the odor would be pulled past my sister or I (whoever had chosen the front seat). This might account for why both Harper and I think farts are hilarious, even though we didn't find it funny at the time.
As a 5-year-old, everything my parents said was gospel (except what my dad told me about mud-dauber wasps and their intimate relationship with spiders), so when my mom answered my quandary re: baby-havin', I carried that in my brain for the next... well, twenty years. I'm reminded of it every now and then, and it always makes me chuckle a little.
When asked what having a baby was like, my mom's response to me was: "Taylor, having a baby is like taking a really really big poop."
I doubt she thought that I'd remember that. But I do. And in a few weeks, I'll be able to verify whether that comparison is accurate. Thanks, Mom, for the wisdom. :)
