A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul by Canfield Jack & Hansen Mark Victor

Author:Canfield, Jack & Hansen, Mark Victor [Canfield, Jack & Hansen, Mark Victor]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Spiritual life
ISBN: 9781558745438
Publisher: Deerfield Beach, Fla. : Health Communications
Published: 1998-09-14T18:30:00+00:00

00 YOU LIKE THE5E E/\RR1W65 I BOUGHT FOR nOh'5 BlRTHDf\Y?

WHAT KIND OF 5T0NE5 ARE THEY?

s.A^s

mETHYST.

DIDN'T THEY HAVE ANY THAT BELIEVE IN GOO?

I DON'T GET IT.

PUN5! NEVER APOLOGIZE, NEVER EXPLAIN.

DILBERT. Reprinted by permission of United Features Syndicate, Inc.

It's a House ... It's a Cow It's Ms. Burk!

When the midwife confirmed my pregnancy, I was working as a teacher's aide in a fourth-grade classroom. To avoid the inevitable barrage of questions, I tried to keep my news from the students as long as possible. But I hadn't counted on Natalye to root out the truth like a pig in search of truffles.

Natalye had recently become a big sister and considered herself the expert on pregnancy. Since her mother was no longer pregnant, Natalye figured it was someone else's turn, and no woman was above suspicion. She took a sideways glance at her slender teacher and announced, "Ms. Daily's pregnant. 1 can tell." Word spread rapidly, until Ms. Daily flatly denied the rumor. Next, Natalye turned her appraising eye on Mrs. Scofield, who was enthusiastically congratulated by mobs of nine-year-olds until that rumor, too, was squelched. Finally, it was my turn. I had been waiting for Natalye to turn her investigative nose my way, and I was prepared with a few creative answers because I didn't want to flat-out lie.

She approached me with her entourage of three other girls and asked me (or rather told me), "Ms. Burk, when's your baby due? 'Cause I know you're expecting." I responded with humor, "Oh Natalye, you always think somebody's pregnant." But she wouldn't let it go. Every morning she grinned her most appealing grin and said, "You can tell me, Ms. Burk. You fixin' to have a baby, ain't you?" I answered with a grammar lesson: "Aren't you. Not ain't you."

She persisted, improving her language so I couldn't hide behind it. I tried distracting her with "Why do you ask, am I gaining weight?" But eventually she wore me down, and I admitted that, yes, my baby was due in June. Six long months away for me. Natalye was thrilled, reigning goddess of spotting "p.g. women." Never mind that she'd been wrong at least a half-dozen times before me; she'd struck gold at last.

Morning sickness is tough on anyone, but pregnant teachers should get special martyr points for having to use the same bathroom as nine-year-old boys whose aim is far from accurate. Let it suffice to say that I tried to use the adults-only restroom in the office when I had enough advance warning.

During the ensuing school year I was asked many questions, ranging from "Does your baby like it when you eat pickles?" to "Where does a baby's fart go?" Milton was appalled that I would be happy with either a boy or a girl. "Oh, Ms. Burk, how could you want a girl? Girls are so disgusting. Well, except you're not so bad."

Two of the girls liked to kiss the baby good-bye every day. As a couple of the boys taunted them with, "Hope and Sheneka are in love with Ms.

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