My son Charlie clearly had enough of the womb. Even though it meant being born seven weeks early, he busted out last Thursday. After reflecting on his situation, I really can’t argue with his decision.
Consider the following:
The Food: For the entire gestation period, my wife has been force-feeding my son a steady diet of veggie bowls and yogurt smoothies. No prime rib. No pizza. No cheeseburgers. In other words, he’s been severely malnourished. You pretty much know the food is bad when the baby is actually looking forward to an exclusive diet of breast milk.
The Conversation: Trapped inside his mother’s uterus, my son was essentially a captive audience. And needless to say, my wife is not exactly Cedric The Entertainer. Essentially Charlie was forced to spend the last seven months listening to all of my wife’s interminable work stories. At least I had mobility, and could simply walk away mid-sentence during the third consecutive story about paper jams or the office printer being short of toner. Poor Charlie didn’t even have the dexterity to cover his ears. Frankly, I think he bolted just to hear something more stimulating, like the low buzz of hospital machinery.
The Television: There are few things more frustrating in life than to not be in control of the remote. I saw this coming once Gonzaga’s basketball season ended. Charlie was back to watching my wife’s sweet TV lineup of Desperate Housewives and The Gilmour Girls. In fact, I’m pretty sure all of this started during an episode of Oprah… Only it wasn’t labor. Charlie simply tunneled his way out like in the movie “The Shawshank Redemption.”
So Charlie, I don’t blame you one bit. If anything, I’m surprised you were able to hold out as long as you did. In light of the circumstances, I’m convinced that you decided to bolt early just so you could hang with your Dad. Fellow Zillionaires, please welcome the newest member to our ranks: Charlie Ryan Ring, The Centaur Jr.