Motherhood: The Second Oldest Profession by Erma Bombeck

Author:Erma Bombeck
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Parenting, Humor, Family & Relationships, Mothers, General, Motherhood
ISBN: 9789990516364
Publisher: Random House
Published: 1987-04-01T04:00:00+00:00

23

What kind of a mother would... have her maternity clothes bronzed?

Cora

Cora is an important character in this book. Mostly because adults do a lot of kidding about children.

Complaining is a mother's escape hatch. That's why you hear a lot of, “Go out and play in the traffic” or “Marrying your father was my first mistake. You were my second.” And on a bad day, “If God had meant for me to take you to church, He would have put restrooms at the end of each pew.”

It's important that you meet Cora in the examination room at her gynecologist's. There's always something intimidating about the place.

Maybe it's because you're sitting in a chilled room in a paper dress (you've set drinks on a bigger piece of paper) waiting to discuss intimate things with a man who is two years younger than your cookie sheet.

On this day Cora cleared her throat and wished her feet looked better. The heels were cracked and her toenails needed cutting. She wished her whole body looked better. Since she stopped smoking six months ago, her body looked like an avocado. Even when she sucked in her stomach, nothing moved. Maybe he could give her a diet.

She reasoned she was stupid to come. There probably was nothing wrong with her. She was just tired. And probably ready for the estrogen connection.

The examination lasted less than three minutes and after a couple of questions and a few notations, the doctor smiled and said, “Congratulations: you're going to become a mother.”

Cora looked him in the eye for the first time since he came into the room. “I'm going to become a what?”

“Mother,” he said. “As in Teresa, McCree, and Nature.”

She threw her arms around his neck and for a reason that made no sense to either of them, said, “Thank you!”

Cora couldn't believe it. For years she and Warren had tried everything. They had kept charts, burned candles, sought adoption, and even gone into debt (which everyone said was a sure-fire way to get pregnant). Nothing. Motherhood eluded her.

“You know I'm thirty-eight,” said Cora, anxiously.

The doctor was without expression. “If you'd waited another year, the birth could have been covered by Medicare, not to mention The New York Times. Your uterus is tilted, so we're going to take some precautions.”

Eleven weeks into her pregnancy, Cora climbed into bed and remained there until the birth of the baby six months later.

She ate her meals from a tray that Warren prepared every morning, watched soaps and game shows, read, and entertained the parade of soothsayers who wanted to relieve her of her happiness.

Her mother said, “Tell me again. What happened?”

Her sister-in-law said, “Are you aware the kid will take your social security card for Show and Tell?”

Her husband offered to lace her bran with Valium.

Her neighbor warned she'd feel different when the kid sat around connecting liver spots on Mommy's arms.

Her paper boy said, “I thought you were the oldest mother in North America, but I looked it up in the

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