Baby Doom

I woke up this morning and thought, "hmm, I didn't dream at all last night; how odd." While waiting at the doctor's office for K to have her endoscopy done, I looked over in boredom at the other half of the office, which was for pediatric patients (ones with digestive disorders also? This was never clarified).

And then I remembered.

I dreamt that I was poised to give birth to quintuplets any hour. More frightening was the pain of birthing five children vaginally (although K pointed out to me in waking life that this would decidedly require a cesarean) than having to raise five children with my mysteriously unknown but present husband. In waking life, two cats and a dog are enough to throw one's hands up and call the whole thing off, I'd say.

Am I suddenly revisiting the barren wasteland formerly known as my maternal stirrings?

Perhaps the dream was more symbolic, ie, you will produce five works. (soon? In one year? Ever?)

I like children in that abstract way that one probably views a career in proctology; rewarding and perhaps enriching but more often than not very smelly and dirty. I need a starter baby, preferably one that is currently three years old and will always remain three years old and who can take naps on command.

Maybe I should start off with a My Buddy, drag it around with me wherever I go, and see how it feels from there. If I'm not institutionalized and sterilized before then.