this conversation is why i'm awake at 1:00 am

Me: I'm getting into bed at 10:30, face washed, teeth brushed, jammies on, ready for a good night's sleep!

Brain: Oh! Hey! Real quick before you do that, I wanted to ask you about your future.

Me: Oh, Brain, there's plenty of time to think about that tomorrow. I'm going to sleep.

Brain: Yes, you're right. There's still TONS of time. Unless...

Me: Unless what?

Brain: What if you went into labor tonight? What would you do?

Me: Psht! Easy. I would call the people who are on the list posted in my bedroom under the "People to Call When I Go into Labor at Night" heading. I also have a day list. And a Chicken caretaker calendar. And a phone sheet.

Brain: But what if none of them picked up the phone? What would you do with your son? What about Chicken?

Me: Well... I... I guess I would... call someone else... or ask Ryan to call someone...

Brain: But what if you're insane with the agony of labor and can't think of anyone to call? What if Ryan can't think of anyone to call because he's too worried about you being insane with the agony of labor? Wow, that would be terrible. You'd feel so scared and alone.

Me: Oh my God... I don't know. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WOULD DO.

Brain: No, YOU DON'T KNOW. Which means a) you're definitely going into labor tonight; b) nobody will be able to come take care of Chicken; and c) you'll have to take a taxi to the hospital and deliver the baby alone, probably without that epidural you were looking forward to so much. Tonight.

Me: Oh no...

Brain: Also, the baby is going to be sick.

Me: Oh my God. I'm freaking out. So many things can go wrong.

Brain: That's because you're a terrible mother.

Me: Wait, am I?

Brain: Plus your hair always looks bad.

Me: Oh... it does?

Brain: Dude, your hair is the worst. And most of your friends do really funny mean impressions of you behind your back. And they're not going to remember your birthday. And you have kind of a lisp. OH, and I wanted to let you know that everyone remembers that Facebook post where you wrote "imminent" when you meant "eminent."

Me: Oh my God, are you serious?

Brain: Yeah. That was really embarrassing and now everyone thinks you're stupid. But more importantly, you're definitely a terrible mother. If you were a good mother you'd have all of this under control, and you wouldn't be worried at all. That's what people mean when they say "why are you working so hard on organizing this? It's not like you're the first person to have a second baby."

Me: Brain, you're so right... I AM a terrible mother.

Brain: Um, that's what I just said. Twice.

Me: Wait, wait, WAIT! There's still time! I can fix this! I can make a list. A list of people to call, back-ups for my back-ups... you know, people I can just say, "I'm sorry, I know it's 2 am, but I need you right now." I can put all the phone numbers on it and post it next to the other lists in the bedroom so even if I'm insane with the agony of labor and Ryan's worried about my labor-agony-insanity, we can still call SOMEBODY.

Brain: That's a really good idea. You should make that list.

Me: I don't think I can wait until tomorrow on this.

Brain: No. You can't.

Me: I'm still freaking out.

Brain: Shhh... make the list. You should probably write a blog post too.

Me: You're so right, Brain. This is definitely the best use of my time from 11 pm until 1 am. Way more important than sleep.

Brain: I know. Grab some fruit snacks while you're up.

Me: Brain, you're the best.

Brain: Duh. I know. I'm your BRAIN.


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