The Magical Story of Labor Day

Ah, Labor Day. A day when we celebrate labor and all of its laborious labors.

And who among us hasn't labored over laborious labors at some point in our labors? Heck, you may be laboring right now! You might even be IN labor! And that's the labor regarding which I have begun to labor over this post. Laboriously. And from a guy's point of view.*

(*Bearing in mind that, since I AM a guy, I've never had to bear children myself - laboriously or otherwise.)

So it all starts innocently enough. There you are, minding your own business with your nicely chiseled six-pack...

...when BLAM!, some dude comes along and gets all up in your business!

Okay, that came out wrong.

The point is: you're pregnant. And now your belly looks like this:

Which kind of reminds me of this plumber I once knew...

Or, if you're of the clothing persuasion, like this:

Because pregnant ladies like to carry baby gherkins in their underwear.
You know, weird cravings and all that.

Anyway, a couple of weeks later the kid wants out:

In the worst way.

And NOW you're ready to labor laboriously. Which you might think would look like this:

"Aw! Just lookit that teensy tiny baby! I bet that didn't hurt a bit!"

Yeeeeah... no.

In reality, it tends to look more like this:

Only, you know, more goopiness, screaming, nudity, and the doctor's skin under your fingernails. Really, it's kinda like a SAW movie, except you can't sleep afterward because there's an unfamiliar person screeching in your room, as opposed to just in your nightmares.

And then, after all that hard labor, you have a beautiful baby:

Who may or may not kill you in your sleep.

I mean, probably not, but there's really no guarantee.

So anyway, good luck with that, and happy Labor Day!

Meredith, Stephanie A., Anony M., Gina R., Stephen, Ginn, & Julie W., may your labors never be in vain. Or in cake, for that matter.