Moody Monday's: Baby Fairies and Christmas

tlpoague

I woke up this morning feeling like I was sucking air through a clogged straw. My head pounding with each attempted breath.
"Not again..." I muttered, as I mustered up the energy to crawl from my cocoon.
I have been battling this cold for three day now. Today it hits like a roaring lion. But...I am stubborn! I refuse to admit  I am getting sick. I will simple tell myself that I have a mild case of allergies brought on by the snow that visited us last night.
To jump start my creative juices for the day, I decided to revisit a few of my earlier blogs after my bible study. (I need all the help I can get since my mind is short of its air intake and not firing all it cylinders.) While reading, all I could do was laugh at my warped sense of humor that Mr. P. cringes at when I slip back into my redneck ways.
This thought led me to baby fairies. Yup! I said baby fairies.
It began like this...
While visiting my daughter a few days ago, she asked, "guess what?..."
And a humorous story began.
A friend thought she may be pregnant so, she inquired the help of my daughter to take her to the store to invest in a few boxes of pregnancy testes. (They really should sell these in the bulk since some parties can't seem to believe the first one.)
This friend, frightened at the prospect of the outcome, coaxed my daughter into taking one with her.
(By now I am snickering. I can see where this is going.)
Pokey, my daughter, feeling pretty confident of her outcome said, "okay, let's pee on the stick."
(I think I snorted, while trying to suppress a laugh, when she said that.)
Time passed quickly. Then they checked the sticks. One had a blue line, the other didn't. With disbelief and thinking there was a mix up, they tried again.
By the third time, there was no doubt.
Calmly my daughter tells me, "The baby faerie hit the wrong damn person."
There was no suppressing the laugh. I snorted so hard laughing that it's no wonder I am sick now.
Composing myself, I couldn't help but ask, "So...you're about four or fives weeks?"
Pokey looked at her friend and fired off, "Don't you hate it when your mom is right?"
Then she looked at me and added, "It's all your fault!"
I beamed with pride before I said, "I hope you have twins! Two girls would be nice to add with the two boys. I think you will do fine."
I guess it was time to explain to her the miracles of God's gifts he bestows upon his children. There isn't any protection in the world to block something like that.
(If you didn't believe in God, then remember to never say the words..."I will never...". Because somewhere down the line, that never will happen.)

It was a night I will never forget. A mix of caster oil, a midnight phone call, and a race to see which would happen first...the baby or hospital. Check out...
Silly Sunday's: Pokey and baby Jr.

Thanks for joining me for this weeks Moody Monday!