I won't talk much about Kitty's pregnancy because it was pretty laid back and I was told "it makes other mothers angry." I'm knocking furiously on wood right now. Consequently, we were thrilled about six months in when she got her first comment from the neighborhood about it.
Kitty and I were walking down Brevoort from the express train station when a voice came from behind us, "Well! SOMEone's having a baby! mm-HMM." At first we weren't sure if she was talking to us. We turned and smiled and waved. Our new friend wasn't content to leave it at that though.
"I just had my eighth. It's GREAT! Do you know what you are having?"
Kitty took the lead, "Nope. We're kicking it 'old school' and didn't find out."
"Well, I have eight BOYS. Nothing but trouble... Do you want to find out? Come over here, honey."
She opens the gate to her brownstone and meets us at a card table on the sidewalk where three older people are playing dominoes and smoking.
"Ma... hey, MA... Tell her what kind of kid she's going to have!"
The mother turns to us and smiles, gold teeth sparkling against the sunset. "I'm from Carolina, so I know these kinds of things," she says.
"Just relax, hon. Don't worry about what I'm going to do."
The old woman takes a drag off of her cigarette and places it down on the card table, the end hangs over the edge and falls onto the sidewalk. Still sitting, her hand reaches up and she places her hand on Kitty's throat.
After about thirty seconds she lets go, exhales her cigarette smoke and lifts the cigarette to her lips and takes another drag.
"I'm from Carolina, so I know these things... I felt two heart beats. It's a girl and HE," she motions at me with her cigarette, "is the father."
No comments:
Post a Comment