For today’s entry, I’m sharing a children’s story I wrote some years ago. Like so many of my stories and essays, it has remained unshared in a folder in the Cloud. So, I’m excited that this challenge allows me, encourages me, forces me to put this story and many others out into the world.
I hope you enjoy it!
I Tasted Just Like Birthday Cake
One night, as Andrew hopped into bed, his mom told him a special bedtime story.
“It’s about you,” she said. Before you were born, you were in my belly.”
Andrew looked alarmed. “Mommy, did you eat me?”
“You tasted just like birthday cake.” She giggled. “Actually, you were inside a sack, next to my stomach.”
“Like a grocery bag?” asked Andrew.
“No,” said his mom, “the sack was more like a bubble.”
Andrew pictured himself floating inside a giant bubble.
“And it was weightless for you.”
“Like in a rocket ship in outer space?” asked Andrew and he pictured himself soaring through space in a rocket ship.
“The bubble was full of a special growing water and you swam around in it.”
“Was I a fish?” asked Andrew.
“No,” said his mom, “you were a growing little boy, but your lungs couldn’t breathe air yet, only that special water.”
Andrew pictured himself in a giant fishbowl, swimming around.
“What did I eat?”
“You ate what I ate. We had a tube that connected us called an umbilical cord.”
Andrew imagined his mother passing him a hot fudge sundae through a giant waterslide tube.
“Ew, Does that mean I ate broccoli?”
“Yes,” said his mother smiling, “and never complained. See your belly button? That’s where the umbilical cord used to connect to you.” She tickled him on his belly and Andrew laughed.
“What did I do in the bubble?”
“You grew and you kicked and rolled around and you had the hiccups.”
“Oh, I hate getting the hiccups!”
“You did all kinds of things in there.”
Andrew pictured himself playing soccer, doing karate and tumbling in the fishbowl bubble, holding his breath to get rid of his hiccups.
“As you grew bigger, Andrew, so did my belly. It got to be very round, like a basketball. Then my belly got so big, we thought you would be a giant!”
Andrew saw himself taller than his house, resting an elbow on his chimney and holding a basketball.
“And then you were ready to come out and meet us and breathe air. So, the doctor helped. Your skin was wrinkled from being in water for so long.
“Like when I stay in the bathtub too long?”
“Yes,” said his mom. “And your daddy helped cut the umbilical cord so you could start eating on your own. You cried too.”
“Why?”
“You had never heard your own voice before. You wanted to hear it right away. Daddy says you sounded like a rock star.”
Andrew pictured himself with an electric guitar singing to the doctor and the nurses and his parents in the hospital.
“And you were tiny.”
Andrew pictured himself as small as an insect bouncing on his mother’s belly like a trampoline.
“The nurse wrapped you in a blanket to keep you warm, and I held you and cried with happiness. That’s how you were born.”
“Wow,” said Andrew, “I bet nobody else in the world has a story like that.”
“No,” said Andrew’s Mom, “That’s your story alone. But . . .” She rubbed her tummy. “Your little sister is swimming in a sack of her own right now.”
“My what?” asked Andrew with surprise.
She put Andrew’s hand on her belly, which was rounder than he remembered it. And suddenly he felt it move, like someone kicked it from the inside. Andrew looked at his mother. He looked at her belly and frowned.
“Mommy, did my baby sister taste like birthday cake?”
“No, Andrew, only you tasted like birthday cake.” She smiled, “Your sister tasted more like strawberry pie.” And they hugged each other tightly.