Found in Chicago
I love the story of my birth. I love it so much that I can't remember what is reality and what is fiction... it's that good. It takes a real good story teller (aka liar) to tell the story of my birth and no one does it better than " Triflin " (my father) but my Aunts have showered me with funny moments as well only for my Mother to crush all the lies with her front seat to the action, but here goes my recollection... if i am allowed to have one. It was a thunder-storming summer Tuesday, the 190 th day of the year (July 9 th ) and a pretty young thang was having crazy labor pains so she kept going back and forth to the hospital and after being kicked out of the hospital for getting slick at the lips with the nurse who said she was having false labor pains she returned home still with child. For the safety and confidentiality of this source, we are going to call her "Mommy". After a tiresome trip she walks back up the stairs to the house to use the restroo...