Why am I all shook up?
Because Millicent, the little Asian girl upstairs is about to give birth to Japan. She is so big I’m truly worried she’s going to tip over. The smallest of women carrying this force has quite daunted me.
Every time I see her I want to say, ‘What the hell is in there, a rhino?”
My friends, Camille and Joanne ran into her one day and even the two of them, that nothing surprises, was taken aback.
“Do you think they did it a lot more than most couples…and that’s why she’s so big?” said Joanne.
“Let’s hope so,” Camille said scaling the hallway wall to let her roll by.
The trouble is, I don’t know she and her husband very well. They’ve only moved in within the year and she wasn’t the size of Mount Fuji when they did.
She was petite and pint-sized prancing around in tights and big button-down blouses, her black, blunt-cut hair held by a tortoiseshell barrette. “Where did you get your little ballerina flats?” I’d coo, meeting her on the stairs.
It was always some obscure store in Chinatown where you’d get two pair for the price of one.
Her husband looks more like her brother…same height…same face. No, I am not insinuating all Asians look alike, but in this case there is definitely an uncanny resemblance.
I realized, I’m worried about her since giving birth to a Sherman tank is not going to be easy. I also know I need to approach the whole thing with ease and calm. They’re young, so they’re probably not thinking what I’m thinking like…what if she has it in the middle of the night, in a cab…at a light…with a driver named Mohammed who’s on his phone and doesn’t see her contractions have just increased?
Do you think I’m a little anxious?
Or what if they get to the hospital and some dumb ER nurse leaves her sitting in the waiting room like a docked blimp also not realizing…hey Nurse Jackie, this is it.
She’s a very stoic, uncomplaining girl. Never says a word about a thing. When her toilet backed up and she shyly knocked to use mine, she said…”It’s okay…I go coffee shop…you not home.”
I say, “We’re calling a plumber, I am home…NOW…”
The big question for me is, why did they move into a tiny one bedroom apartment knowing they were expecting another boarder, small as he or she may be. Though, if you glimpsed her belly, that would be the last word brought to mind.
This kid’s arriving with luggage and a retinue of advisers heralding decorating tips. “He’d like the crib by the window, so he can read his morning paper…and no no no…no baby boy blue…we prefer more of a black and white palette with a little kumquat thrown in…and no busy patterns please…get rid of those choo-choos…pa-leese”
What am I saying…I need to plot my next move.
All I want them to know is that I’m here to help and assist if any is needed.
Love thy neighbor…love thy new baby.
You know what?