Christina P. Mother Inferior Page #2

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So they told me-- They were like,

Christina,

youre gonna have to have a C-section.

So we schedule it.

Cause they were like,

the babys head is so big,

and youre so small.

Like your

your meow is so petite.

So, I was like, Awesome.

Im gonna have my C-section, yeah.

Okay. So what do you think happened

on the day of my planned C-section?

Moms?

Thats right.

I went into labor!

And I squeezed a human

out of this tiny, little fragile meow.

And I had to have an episiotomy.

[women] No!

Oh, yeah. For those of you who dont know,

they had to cut my taint.

[giggles, snorts]

The area between my balls

and my butt hole.

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

[laughs, snorts] Wow!

Wow! You think childbirth is scary.

Uh, not as terrifying

as that first post-episiotomy dump.

Holy sh*t, that is a nail-biter, huh?

[nervous giggling]

Oh, cause its all Frankenstein

loose-meat sandwich down there.

Yeah. Do you guys have Arbys here?

You know what Im talking about?

You dip it in the juice and then the...

Oh.

Nobody tells you that stuff, man.

Nobody tells you.

And nobody tells you this, okay?

Its not good, but--

I dont mean to scare you guys,

but when you have a baby...

you kinda hate your husband.

I mean not-- Just for, like, a lot.

You really hate him.

Just in the beginning, you know.

Youre so full of hormones,

and its so traumatic, its so weird.

And, I mean,

you could be married to Gandhi,

and you would just still just hate him!

Like, I remember breast-feeding our son

in the middle of the night,

just breast-feeding our kid

at 4:
00 in the morning, rocking,

muttering to myself in the dark.

You motherf***er.

Well, your career keeps going.

Im stuck here breast-feeding this baby.

Well, have fun in New York.

That must be nice.

Can I help you with anything?

Yes, you can grow a pair of tits.

How bout that?

But then it passes. It passes.

And then you go back to normal, you know.

And, actually, I really like my husband.

I like him. I love him.

I dont know why people

marry people they hate.

You can choose who you marry.

This isnt India. Just...

I love my husband. I laugh at his jokes.

I think hes fantastic.

And then all day, every day,

I wanna punch him in his dumb face.

And its not the big things

that make you wanna kill your spouse.

Its little stuff.

Little stuff.

Like, why does he have to ask me

where everything is...

all the time...

in his own goddamn house?

Like Im Carson, the butler,

and we live in Downton Abbey or something.

All day on a loop-- Where are the keys?

Wheres the dog? Wheres the garage?

When we got married, we were so poor

we lived in a studio apartment.

A studio apartment.

And he had the nerve to ask me

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