I have one nerve left, and everything seems to be getting on it lately.
Tomorrow, my dad is coming out to take me to my doctor's appointment, run me around for my errands, and then we're off to go to the Fledgling Sparrow's school awards ceremony, as she is getting an academic award.
Hanging out with my dad for several hours is as much fun as chewing sand. My stomach is in knots and the butterflies in there are doing kamikaze dives. My dad is a terrible driver, and does not realize this, so I have to remind my dad to not shout at or flip off drivers that have cut him off after he has accidentally swerved at them, as in my neighborhood, he will get shot.
They will not be coming over for Thanksgiving this year, as they are in the process of getting their house ready to sell. This will be a relief to all concerned, as they will not have to sit at my house and pretend to be entertained, and I will not have to try to entertain them. Plus, my house can remain in its usual shit-pit state, as I don't have to worry about my parents coming over and finding a dog hair in their mashed potatoes. We are used to the dog hairs, and now consider them to be a fine source of fiber. Besides, it's not the dog hairs that will kill you, it's the dog farts. I had to lock the dogs in the backyard the other day, and air out the house for an hour before the smell dissipated. And that was with the 50 MPH Santa Ana winds blowing outside. I am beginning to suspect that the layer of sticky grime I find when I clean is the grease from dog farts.
I will try and be a good mom and keep a straight face when they hand the Fledgling Sparrow her academic award. I will not remark to all and sundry assembled how she pesters me with stupid questions night and day, and wonders why she has to take a history class when she can just watch the History Channel. I will try and remember to take loads of ibuprofen beforehand, to dampen my fever. I will try to remember that children are our future, without being suicidal.
Speaking of which, someone threw out a perfectly good newborn baby not more than two miles from our house, just a few days ago. The baby still had his umbilical cord, and he was wrapped in a blanket and put in a plastic container. He was still alive when whomever it was, presumably the mother, put him in the plastic container. Now, I am not the best of parents, but I do know that putting a baby in a Tupperware will not keep them fresh.
It is even stupider, because we are a "Safe Haven" law state, which means that you can turn a newborn baby in to any fire station (or which there are three within a three-mile radius of where the baby was found), emergency room, etc. and they will ask you no questions whatsoever. Also, in California, if you are in labor, you can go to any emergency room, refuse to give them your name or any information, deliver your baby, and leave. That is the law, and that is one of the many reasons why we have so many illegal immigrants here in California. Everyone knows this, so there is no reason to go having a baby at home, or tossing out a baby, just because you are poor, or undocumented, or are on drugs, or anything.
There is just no good excuse for suffocating a baby in a plastic container. If you didn't want to be pregnant, well, this is California. You can get a free abortion. If you didn't want to raise a kid, you can put them up for adoption, no questions asked. Nothing could be easier.
I know pregnancy and labor isn't a piece of piss, which is why after nine months, while in labor, I was shouting down the hospital, screaming "Get it out of me!" like I was infested with an alien parasite, while begging for an epidural. I know raising a kid can be burdensome, as I've been a single mom, who lived on ramen noodles, to make sure my kid had meat to eat. I have an almost three-year-old who still won't sleep through the night, and can't eat solid food. You don't have to tell me about the burdens of motherhood. And I should say "parenthood," because there's plenty of dads out there who go through the single parent thing, too.
The paper said that the baby was either Hispanic or black. Now, they may not fetch quite as much on eBay as a white baby, but they are becoming quite trendy, what with Madonna and all, so I really see no reason to chuck out a perfectly good baby.
Before you start thinking that I have turned in to a big old softy, I am here to tell you that I have not. Hanging is too good for the likes of that so-called mother.
I know what the statistics say, that it will be a young girl, age 16 to 21, who has hidden her pregnancy, who is in denial, yada yada yada. There will be some people who will think that I should feel sorry for her. I can't. I won't. She didn't have any sympathy for that baby, or she would not have put it in a plastic container, with a practically airtight lid, to struggle for its last breaths. She never gave that baby a chance. Why should I give her a chance? Have her euthanized, before she breeds again.
Two miles. From my house. And I couldn't do anything about it.
People are assholes, and the more I know about them, the more I want to kick my cats.
P.S. -- This is the website for the organization started by a local woman to raise money to bury these abandoned babies. I guess I must be getting to be a softy in my old age, because normally I'd say that spending charity money on dead people is a waste. Whatever, she's done a lot to raise awareness about this problem, and was instrumental in getting the laws passed here in California.