Seriously? Who first saw this and thought, yummy!
But then I got to thinking--what was that they used to say about babies coming from the cabbage patch? I mean, come on, that's GOT to be easier than trying (and trying and trying) to get pregnant, worrying about more ectopic pregnancies, going through the nine months of horrible hormones, so on and so forth. Just grabbing a baby out of this thing...suddenly the cabbage is full of promise.
So, giddy with anticipation, I got out the knife. Would it be another boy? A girl? And what would the baby look like? I mean, obviously it wouldn't be biologically related to Hot Stuff or me, but we could love it like one of our own. Especially since it wouldn't add yet another layer to my c-section scarring. I carefully sliced it open...
Yet another disappointment. Not only is there no baby, but it doesn't smell very good, either. At least if something is stinky it should be an adorable baby with a messy diaper. Not something your husband wants you to make for dinner. Still...I can't help but think that the cabbage would surely sleep better than a newborn. And be far less maintenance. It may not be edible, but it could fill that emptiness in our family, right? I could learn to love it, right?
Yes, but what would we call it?
I decided to leave it up to the kids. After all, they'd be most affected by the addition of a new sibling, vegetable or otherwise. Dojo was ambivalent, but Nayna immediately went into maternal mode, lovingly carrying the cabbage around. Unfortunately, we forgot to tell Hot Stuff about our baby replacement, and he decided to liven up the sweet and sour chicken and rice we had for dinner last night.
Ah well. Guess it's back to the old fashioned method. If you'll pardon me, I've got to get my binoculars. Storks aren't easy to find.