I feel like I'm watching a little kid playing with a jack in the box. He's turning the crank really slow though, so it's not a tune, just the occasional "ping" of a tang slipping free, signaling progress is being made. It's going slow enough that you can't readily tell where you are in the song, but you know a big smiling joker face is going to come flying out at you soon.
The main difference is that ours has two little jokers slammed in there. A womb full of surprise. Waiting to pop. And the suprise we're waiting for is going to be covered in blood and slime.
I guess that's not that out of the ordinary for clowns.
Alternate jokes (I couldn't decide):
-"I think the birthday planner misheard my desire for a juggling clown"
-"C-Sections! How do they work?"
-"Ladies and gentlemen, I present Violent Julia and Harper 2 Dope."
-"Congratulations ma'am it's a social deviant."
-"They certainly seem interested in breast feeding."
In addition to playing chicken with Abby's biochemistry, we've spent a lot of time updating people on the lack of activity. Quite a few of our friends and relatives seem to be at DEFCON 1 and are just waiting for the call from the president. Abby gets at least three calls and 2 emails, and a handful of Facebook messages asking if we have babies, how she's doing, or making sure we'll let them know when it happens.
We're working on figuring out the logistics of getting people in to see us , without overwhelming the room's heating/cooling systems, the post-op patient or the frazzled new father. We'll try to let everyone important know when we have babes in hand. (There's got to be a joke about two in the bush here, but I can't pull it together.) As things develop, we'll try to put the information out through reasonable channels.
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