Now, On to Chosing a Color for the Nursery

I am standing in front of our bedroom mirror.

I look at my face.

I wonder what it will look like when I go into labor.

I glance at Chup.

He is sitting on the bed, engrossed in a magazine article.

Not watching.

So I pretend I am in labor, just to see how it looks on me.

Face 1: I clench my jaw, dropping my cheeks, making my eyeballs look like they might pop out of my head.

Face 2: I puff up my cheeks, the bridge of my nose a wrinkled road of flesh, my eyes squinty like a glance in the sun.

Face 3: I grit my teeth and seethe.

I can't decide.

Chup is still reading the article.

"Excuse me." I say to him politely.

"Hmmm?" Chup does not look up.

"Which labor face should I choose?"

I quickly demonstrate all three as soon as he lifts his head.

"Right. Probably not the gritting teeth one." He responds, and returns to his article.

So . . . I'm glad that's decided.

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