Do you guys know who is here today?! It’s Harrison, who is not only from, but is the Heir to Where my head was squished to an unnatural angle
When Cole first asked me to be a superstar on his blog, I was all, “pssh, homie. I got this!” & then I realized….there’s not much to say about 5 months. Or maybe, there’s TOO MUCH TO SAY about 5 months! So maybe the best way is to start at the beginning, when I was a simple twinkle in my father’s eye…
Okay. Actually, let’s skip that part. Because NO KID WANTS TO KNOW THAT HIS PARENTS FORNICATE ON A REGULAR BASIS WITHOUT WANTING TO GAUGE HIS EYES OUT WITH A SPOON.
So fast forward 10 months and BAM! I’m getting the hell squeezed out of me by Momma’s uterus. You know that lovely little place where I grew & floated around in water & begged Momma to stop singing Britney Spears on the way home? It turned on me. Goodbye, warm rocking fluid. HELLO, DEATH GRIP OF SATAN. I was confused. I was lost. & then I saw….the light.
& realized I was being evicted without my consent. At almost 42 weeks gestation, I was more than happy to stay in my Uterine Dwelling, thankyouverymuch. So I said “HELL NO” & dug in my heels. Literally. (momma’s rib cage was INCREDIBLY convenient for hooking my toes on.) I WAS NOT GOING DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT.
I fought the shit out of that uterus. Literally. (that was actually pretty gross, swimming in your own excrement & I totally don’t recommend it). Thank God for the pubic bone giving me leverage to fight, but OH MY GOD, MOM. QUIT SQUEEZING ME. NO, really. My head is starting to smoosh. YOU ARE SMOOSHING MY BRAIN. & nobody is concerned?? Nobody is concerned that my brain is being squished, my shoulders feel like they’re going to pop out of socket, things are tearing, the light is getting closer, AND OH MY GOD…
WHAM!
WHAT THE EFF IS THIS PLACE?! Y’all should have seen the lights. Like something out of a freakin’ circus. Then they got all Matrix on me, shoved tubes down my throat, plopped me in some water & I’m all, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?! & throughout my personal trauma, NOBODY GIVES A SHIT.
(Momma’s side note: welcome to life, kiddo)
But then…warm blankets. The tubes were removed. & suddenly, I was staring up into the bluest eyes I have ever seen. “You? You’re my momma? The one with the really awful singing voice?” I thought. The one with blue eyes took my hand. It was warm. It was electric. & when she said, “Hi, Harrison,” I knew I was really home.
& all I wanted was her to sing to me, just like she did for the past 10 months.
