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.
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.