Opinion: Being Born In a Toilet Harder Than You Think

By: Crack Baby

I don’t know about the rest of you out there, but being born in a toilet is much harder than you think. I mean, first of all, there’s the shock. I’m floating there, chilling in uterine juices, when all of a sudden the world just opens up through a ridiculously small vaginal canal and PLOP! out I fall into a bacteria infested environment. Really mom, was this the BEST you could do? I may have to take your word for it. Maybe I’ll understand when I grow up with my new foster family. I can’t wait for that talk.

That’s not even the worst of it though. Even after being birthed into a shit receptacle, you wiped your ass and LEFT me. I was practically strangled and dragged out of the toilet by my umbilical cord. For those of you who don’t know, I’m a glass half full kind of guy. Here I was, left in a pile of afterbirth, urine, and blood. My mother couldn’t lay down the crack pipe for thirty minutes just to go to the doctor. But I said, you know, it still could be worse. At least my mom isn’t a Scientologist.

But it did get worse. After my mother politely left me in the toilet, she realized she forgot to flush. For a second there, I got my hopes up. I thought she might have remembered the tell tale signs of pregnancy. Let’s look at the facts, shall we. She hadn’t had a period in nine months, her belly had enlarged to the size of an enormous, ripe watermelon, and the whole part of pregnancy involving my birth. But nooooooooooooooo, she came back and flushed me. Let me repeat. My mother came back and tried flushing me down the toilet. My legs dangled a bit but I was alright. Fortunately my size prevented me from being flushed down two holes in one day.

Although I wasn’t sitting in a pile of filth any longer (which is a plus), I did lose my placenta. I had grown quite fond of it while in the womb, and had planned to utilize its lifegiving properties while I was jammed in this ceramic shit hole. So here I sit. Waiting. I think I will just sit here ‘til Social Services comes to pick me up. Maybe they will give me a name.