Hi, it's Brandi. You know, the person you've been taunting for the last week, like the asshole captain of the varsity football team you are? Why you gotta be playing me like this? Why you gotta be waking me up in the middle of the night, getting my hopes up and the summarily dashing them? This leaves me feeling like the fat girl who thought she could make the cheerleading squad despite all odds. And unless we're living in a made-for-Lifetime movie, we all know how that works out in the end.
What's that you say? That I'm not even due until tomorrow, and I should be happy that at least my cervix isn't completely closed? Who are you to judge, my friend? I suggest you leave me the hell alone until you decide to take this relationship to the next level.
Call me!
1 comment:
That's good! It's early labor, I promise, whether it's Braxton Hicks or prodromal.
You will be glad for this, trust me. I'm so excited! You can do eeeet!
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