Last night I dreamt I had a baby, the delivery of which I can't remember, but the nurses handed me a plump baby wrapped in a blue blanket nonetheless. He looked a lot like my brother when he was young and as I stared into his sleeping face, I was struck with the profound realization that I was truly and honestly screwed.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked to no one in particular, feeling both the maternal tug and the crushing weight of responsibility.
Standing close by, my father answered wryly, "Looks like you should have been participating less in certain activities."
This fragment of dream stayed with me enough that I found my eye lingering on babies throughout my morning commute. And then as I was leaving the subway in Midtown, iPod blaring, oblivious to those around me, I failed to hear a strange man say hi as he passed me on the landing. When I didn't answer, he followed up with, "Happy Mother's Day." A coworker, who had been walking up the stairs behind me, later recounted the conversation when we were out of the subway. Sharing a small laugh, we wondered why the man chose to wish me a happy mother's day. "Do I look like a mother?" I asked incredulously.
Later when I went to fix my breakfast, pouring oatmeal into a bowl, I noticed the tagline on the box of oatmeal said Every Day is Mother's Day!
Freaky? Yes.
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A small boy in the movie theatre wished me "Happy Almost Father's Day!" on Sunday. I smiled and wished it back to him. "I'm a kid!" he said. "Oh, well then Happy Almost Father's Day to your dad!," I said.
I wish I hadn't. The asshole took this 5 year old to 28 Weeks Later.
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