Quote:
Originally posted by ironweed
"In Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, set at the turn of the century, a father is sent off to the bar by the household women so he doesn't have to hear his wife's cries of pain."
But just try leaving your cell phone number with the maternity ward nurse and see the looks you get. And it was ten cent wings too.
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This is why the maternity ward should be stocked exclusively with male nurses:
"So how far along is she?"
"Look, Mr. Smith, she's pretty dilated. Could be an hour, could be half a day. You got some magazines?"
"I have a video camera. I want to memorialize this..."
"Whoa, whoa there Fellini... Look, the missus has some nice equipment. No doubt about it. But you don't want to see it in action like its going to be soon... You gotta cell #?"
"But I want to see my child being..."
"You remember when LT snapped Theisman's leg?"
"What? Well..."
"Ever seen Faces of Death?"
"What. Are. You. Talking. About!?"
"Look, buddy... Chuck and I got this under control. We'll call you when we see a head coming out. You go get a drink... Now what's that cell #?"
"555-453... Hey, is it safe for you to be writing that on your surgical glove?"
