I Want To Die In The House I Was Born In
Fact: I was born on my dining room floor. My mom couldn’t make it to the hospital and I busted out of that womb joint. We still have the carpet in storage…Let me answer your, “Grosssssss”, with no it wasn’t covered in baby juice, I believe her words to the doctors were “COVER THE RUG!” (read as: Italian mother).
Where was I going with that? I want to die on that carpet. Mostly so I can yell “I was born on that rug and I will DIE on that rug”. Then after I’m dead I’ll make my kids cut up the carpet and hang a piece on their wall or wear it in a necklace. Something eerie, off putting, or annoying like that. Heads up future kids of mine.
Possible memoir title/shitty joke: Born on the Floorth of July.
