RSS Feed (xml)So it happened right there in the baking aisle. I see her as I'm pushing my cart around the corner, she falls grabbing boxes on her way to the floor. I abandon my cart and run down the aisle. I slip as I get close to her, BAM, my ass hits the floor.
Holy Shit, I think her waters have broken. I'm sliding on amniotic fluid. She's on the floor, her face in a grimace. I think I'm in labor, she gasps.
Holy Shit. Call 911! I yell and no one comes. Call 911! I yell again, a woman walked around the corner, walked past. What the hell, I think. What the hell?! I make a mental note to find that walker byer and give her a piece of my mind.
You need to go to the hospital, I say. No, she says. I've got to push right now. She asks me to sit between her legs, by now there are several folks gathered around and at least two of them are calling 911. Is there a doctor in the house I say, feeling slightly funny but also sort of psyched that I get to say such a thing out loud.
You've got to hold on, if you water just broke there's no way the baby's coming yet I say. Bitch, she says, you don't know what you are talking about. I've had three other babies exactly like this. Alrighty then, you cow, I think. Deliver the kid on top of Duncan Hines himself for all I care. But I choose not to say any of this out loud.
She tells me I need to help her, that the baby is coming and I need to help. Uh uh, I think, I don't even know your name and yet I dutifully assume the position. She hikes her skirt up and starts screaming. I start screaming too, along the lines of where are the goddamn paramedics! and the other customers are running around back and forth, one of them rips open a package of dishtowels and hands them to me. Another is holding her hand. This is freaking insane.
We hear the sirens so the ambulance must be close. But not close enough. I glance down and see the head, the baby's head is coming out. Holy shit I say out loud, here it comes! And pop, a shoulder, then two, and out slithers a...wait for it...ah, a baby boy!
A boy born in the baking aisle. Mom is done screaming and the paramedics come running down the aisle. I hand them the slippery dishtoweled baby and they shoo me out of the way. Some thanks I get, I think and move to the side and look for my cart. My purse is still in it, that makes me happy because you know, it could have been stolen in the the ruckus.
As they are taking the mom away I run up to her, name him Duncan! I say and she looks at me sideways as if we've never met.
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