i had four children and three of them arrived exactly on their due dates. My third child was very late. She was born almost two weeks late, on Labor Day. Which meant that I was overdue during a very hot August. My Mother, who had come to help, had to return home before she was born.
So I empathize with Andy, who is now officially late with her second child. But my empathy isn’t enough to counteract the hormones that have her occasionally churned up to the point of semi-hysteria. Our daily diversions are no longer able to reliably cheer her up. Even the proposal of a walk to Silver Dipper, the local ice cream store, is not generating much enthusiasm. Meanwhile I am keeping busy by tackling organizational tasks around the house, like removing these exceptionally sprouted potatoes that had gotten lost at the back of the pantry.
Maybe the baby will decide it is time to be born tonight.