They See Me Pouchin'

Story Sent in by Charlene:

I thought it would be nice to have a picnic with Jeffrey for our first date. We both agreed to make something and buy something. I made cookies, he made salad. I bought drinks, he bought sandwiches. We had a great view of the city from a hill. It was a beautiful day. Everything was perfect.

When I was about halfway done with my sandwich, he said, "Did you know that not all people are born in the normal mammal way?"

I swallowed a bite. "Like, the stork brings some of us?"

He said, "No, as in some of us are reared in pouches, like kangaroos. My mom had a pouch and kept me in it for the first couple of years I was alive."

"That's... great," I said, waiting for the punch line.

He nodded and said, "It was very warm and moist. It was slippery. I stayed in it until she had my brother and her pouch fell off while she was on the toilet."

"Dear God," I said, "Was your brother in the pouch when it fell?"

"No. He was in his high-chair. I remember it clearly because my mother screamed about her pouch from inside the bathroom. It was the first time I had ever heard her scream."

That effectively killed the conversation for a little bit, until he asked, "Did your mother have a pouch?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh, you'd remember it. It was like this," and he put his hands under his pants a little and poked out his fingers to make the shape of, I guessed, a pouch. "More and more women are using them," he explained, "You know. A baby pouch."

I had no idea what he was talking about. Once the food was all in my stomach pouch, I ended the date with the crazy man.