Anyway, upon hearing this, the very fabric of the universe shuttered.
You probably thought it was an earthquake.
Or your dehumidifier.
Nope, it was the cosmos dry heaving at the thought of having to endure another one of my pregnancies.
"We have to do something!" the gods cried.
So they gave Owen a terrible case of the Yarfs.
I hate it when people puke.
But now I remember why we don't want any more kids. Just another thing that can throw up on my carpet.
Poor carpet, too.