I read in some disbelief one woman’s birthing experience, in which she described labor as comparable to having an orgasm. Here, go ahead and read it, I’ll wait.
Now my first thought was that Brits are a strange lot (though I love them nonetheless! …the accents? *swoon*). My next thought was that this lady must have had some crazy sex in her day if she could compare giving birth to an orgasm. My last thought was, hmmm. I guess you really could compare them, couldn’t you?
Oh, not the pain per se, but rather the descriptive language that so often accompanies such acts. And then, as my mind so often does, my thoughts meandered … in this case, to other situations that could also be misconstrued if one only heard the soundtrack… with no visual to confirm the actual goings-on. Don’t believe me?
Let’s play a game. Here is a conversation, and you get to pick where it belongs:
Oh God, come on! Let’s go! Just go. Please, for the love of God. Go, go, go. Dammit! You’re stopping there? No, no… okay. Yes. Good, good!
The above conversation was overheard:
- In a traffic jam, late for work
- Delivering a baby
- During sex
You lose, the answer was “D. All of the above.”
Seriously, no matter which of these three activities you’re doing, chances are, there’s more than a few “Jesus Christs!” being bandied about and quite a bit of cursing, not to mention moans and groans that sound eerily similar.
And really, when you think about it, all three of the above choices are about getting to your destination, aren’t they? Yeah, I’m a little warped, but that’s why you all love me so much.