Let There be Cowboys

Monkey Babies.

Monkey Babies:

"Push!" Urged my very bossy doctor that was squatted down in front of me.

"Ughhh," I pushed. Definitely not in the mood to argue, I'll give him that.

"Again. Your doing great Clara." I pushed again and this time, held it for ten seconds. The longest ten seconds of my life.

"Fuck," I muttered . I was in Golden Valley Hospital and apparently giving labor to a horse.

"I can see his head Clara, all we need is one more really good push." Easy for him to say. He's not trying to force a bowling ball through a meager little hole. Stupid men, and making women have their stupid babies, with their stupid pushing, and the stupid pain. Stupid freaking stupid poo.

I took in a deep breathe, and pushed one last time. Not like I have anything else to do. "Errrrrrrrrrr." Slowly the pressure that laid on my spine began to decrease, and my very concerned eye brows relaxed.

"I got him!" Exclaimed Mr. Dr. Happy pants. Pure joy rushed over me, and I looked over towards Michael Jackson and squeezed his hand.

Woah woah woah woah. Michael. Jackson. Is. In. My. Hospital. Room. And he just saw me give birth?!

"No freaking way!" I shrieked. Michael smiled, and squeezed my hand in response. I was star struck, to say the least.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, I'd like to introduce you to your new baby boy." I took hold of my munchkin baby and cradled him in my arms. Gently, I pushed back the bundle of blanket that surrounded his teeny head and shit my pants. Or at least I think I did, I mean my whole body, waist down was numb, so it could've been anything really.

"Oo oo, aw aw," spoke little baby Jackson.

So I wasn't completely off when I said I was giving birth to a horse.....more like a fucking monkey.

"Clara."

I gave birth to a freaking monkey! Ha this is great. How the fuck did this happen anyway? Oooo I know! Michael Jackson probably has some monkey genetics, I mean I wouldn't be surprised. The dude's a little out of this world.

"Claraaa."

That or I literally fucked a monkey and cheated on Michael Jackson. Yeah no, it's totally the monkey genetics thing.

"Clara wake up!" I stretched out against the side of the creaky truck door and yawned.

"Hhhuuuuuhh whaaa."

"Rise and shine, I thought we might stop for some breakfast. I'm starved from the driving." Sperm donor looked dead. If I wasn't so confused on how I just gave birth to Michael Jackson's monkey baby, I probably would've screamed. It's kinda ironic actually, all those stories I'd tell people and end with, 'And then I married Michael Jackson and we had monkey babies,' finally came true. I'm not a liar after all! I'm a truth-er!

"You look like death by the way," I informed sperm donor as I flipped down the grey stained sun blocker, and opened up the mirror. I gathered my natural blonde hair, half dyed dark brown underneath, into a ponytail, and brushed down my side bangs that shaped around my face. After checking my makeup, and rubbing away stray particles of eyeliner, I nodded at Sperm donor, and cautiously opened the bucket's door. I refuse to fall again. 

Checking to make sure my feet were not entrapped by anything, I gradually placed each foot on the ground. I danced victoriously, bobbing my head back and forth, and throwing my hands up in the air. I did it! I can safely get out of a truck without dying! My achievement was short lived when I slipped and crumpled to the dirt once again. Sperm donor stiffened a laugh and I narrowed my eyes. "I need food," I seethed and push myself up from the unforgiving ground.