#COVIDCatLady, Day 47

Today is my birthday. It feels appropriate to share the story of my birth, starring my mother, me, and... Well actually my dad was mostly asleep outside on a gurney so my mom was the star of the show I was born on March 26th, 1986, at around 8pm. For my mother, the process started 26 hours prior, and ended with a C-section. The doctor’s first words when I was out was “oh, what a big head!” No shit Sher-Doc, that’s probably why I was stuck?! It’s totally the doctor’s fault that I’m an only child. What woman would want to do THAT again? It’s totally not because I was an absolute hand-full. Not at all. I was the nicest of babies, best baby, cute and chubby with 3 necks. Eventually. Eventually, because my mother’s first words to me were: 乖，你好好長啊。 There’s no exact English translation for this, so here’s my personal, biased translation: please please please don’t stay this ugly. Nobody had warned my mother that babies don’t come out looking like those poster babies. Why did no one warn my mother that babies come out looking like red, angry, wrinkled, miniature monkeys? The journey wasn’t exactly smooth. I got cute eVENTually. Anyway, that’s how I got here 34 years ago. Thank you all for the birthday wishes. Tonight, I’m going to eat Italian food with some friends, probably all sitting on the same side of the table, Last Supper style, and wish for world peace.