I've been thinking.
And worrying.
My friend Alison has a thing for sharks. Her mother watched Jaws and went into labor.
I am rather fond of snakes. I mean, I don't want them hiding in my pillowcase or anything, but I don't freak out the way many people do. Before I was born, my family was fishing and either my brother or dad reeled in a snake. They claim that's when my mom went into labor with me.
So...I'm a bit concerned.
I avoid scary movies, books, etc. They give me horrible nightmares. For some reason, though, I am consumed with my affection for the television show Dexter. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, the protagonist is a serial killer--who only murders bad guys. (Perhaps this is why I can watch the show: I feel fairly safe from the killer.) We Netflix them and had a marathon going before Max was born.
What was I thinking?
How will this affect him?
Maybe he'll be interested in forensics. Okay, I can handle that possibility. Of course, I was actually trying to make breakfast when I went into labor. Maybe he'll be fascinated with food. Or maybe he'll combine the two and be a butcher.
Why couldn't I have been obsessed with something completely wholesome at this time?!
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