I'm reading this awesome Twitter thread about childbirth and remembering when they rolled me in for my C-Section. I was so damn glad that they were only going to put the oxygen things in my nostrils, not the whole mask, that I started bribing the anesthesiologist. "You can have my janky car," I said, "and I have at least twelve dollars in my bank account. Oh, and you know my firstborn son is on his way. You can have him too."
"Are you trying to make me laugh?" He was only vaguely incredulous.
It worked.
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