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I& #39;m going to start implying that I gave birth at some point during isolation (it was one of those pregnancies you don& #39;t notice that I& #39;m assured somehow happen sometimes) because what are you going to do? Demand I take my baby outside during a pandemic to prove it to you?
Aww! She& #39;s so cute!
Well, let me tell you. I imagine I had a lot of trouble with her. Well, the hospital obstetrics ward was all converted into a crisis center for COVID. Expectant parents were being told to hold off on giving birth until after the disease had passed but - well - I got impatient.
We had some morphine left over from an earlier caper so we were set to birth at home, but we weren& #39;t sure who was meant to take the drugs. The baby? But we couldn& #39;t reach the baby. That was the whole problem. So I took it. Long story short, woke up with one baby and a ruined sofa
I named her Princess Alberta "Fats" Denton, in honor of my favorite pool player and my favorite type of jewelry.
