Second Parental Preparatory Class

Now I weigh slightly over 2 kilos – hurray, just like two of the juiciest melons, those from Strumica sold in trucks and tractors under the big Canadian maples on Naroden Front street. My fat layers, not the ones you know as ‘мрсни јастучици’ — which will help regulate my body temperature once I’m born — are filling me out, making me rounder like a ball.

My skin is also smoother than ever – an undreamed paradise for modern day cosmetic and genetic industry. My central nervous system is maturing, and as my dad says I am now centralized and I shall not mumble about any decentralization for the years to come.

My lungs are continuing to mature as well. And to tell you the truth I can breathe better than my mum in this period. A new skill that she has to master before I come out, and exactly the reason for her’s and my dad’s second parental preparatory class. This time as my dad claims was more practical in nature although he was not quite serious all the time.

For example instead of carefully scrutinizing what the speaker, remember the Синѓелиќ-hairdresser looking woman, was saying. Instead he was paying more attention to her speech as to guess her non-skopjan origin. And when she started to show how to breath properly during the time of contraction and that by suggesting that each exhalation should be accompanied by the s sound, he was trying to practically counter argue the use of other sounds, “z” for example, or “tz”, or even “sh”. Just to come to the conclusion that “s” is best suited for the purpose. And when the lady, well to be over euphemistic, started talking about prep techniques ad tricks he went bit far in his fantasy in regard to nipples, pumping and milking it out. I have no idea how I will handle such infantile parent?!

How ever, I think he is gradually coming over his phobias, especially after a Sunday chat with my friend Jana and her folks. She is sooo nice and enjoyable a company. And only 9 months my senior. I hardly wait for us to get together. About my mother, well, Pedro once said Todo Para Ella, isn’t what all my dad’s domestic frolicking all about?