March for Life

I just saw the kid off to this year’s March for Life. What a kid. Getting up at 5:30, getting dressed, getting dressed again with the clothes on right-side-out this time, going down to sit in a freezing bus, to go downtown on a freezing day, to tell the world she thinks it's wrong to kill babies. Lucky me. I'll tell the world from right here, with a cup of coffee. Oh, I would have liked to have gone too, but the kid is now a teenager and I've detected a sensitivity to having her dad around... which is odd because I've made it a point, whenever she is with friends, to dance to whatever they're listening to and even sing along whenever I can understand 50% of the words... No, really, she would have been happy to have me come with. But being wise in the ways of the forrest, I know that it will be more of an adventure if she goes with her friends.

I know, by the way, that my child is showing a callous disregard for many women who would be just very, very inconvenienced by not having the babies sucked out of them. Not to mention the poor women with nobabyformetosis, that semi-rare condition in which a woman can carry a baby through an almost full term, and even go through 90% of giving birth, but then would surely die if forced to go that last 10%.

This year I'm not going to say aloud how it is that the good, and selfless, and just incidentally rich, doctors save women from that last 10% of the birth process. You all know. And truth is, I just woke from a dream of being chased by a bear (no, really) and I don't want to think about babies having their brains sucked out. D'oh! I said it anyway.

Maybe more coffee for me.