Pregnancy makes you stupid

Ok, not YOU personally, but some people. Take my friend Liz*, for instance. She’s four months pregnant. The other day we were looking at something where I had written the word, “Crocheting” (it’s one of the old lady hobbies that I indulge in, leave me alone.) Liz saw it and said, “What the hell is CROTCH-et-ing?” Now this isn’t exactly a word most people use on a daily basis, except Liz happens to indulge in this same old lady hobby, and knows full well “what the hell” crocheting is.

Normally Liz is brilliant; she’s getting her doctorate in cardiovascular blah blah blah. It’s almost insane how smart she is. She’s a full time student maintaining a 4.o GPA, doing important research in her field, not to mention being a wife and mother. I don’t think most people could even comprehend the work she does, let alone get a 4.0 on it.

Right now though, she’s an idiot. I love her to death but she becomes a moron when she’s knocked up. The same thing happened the first time she was pregnant. She became a total air-head for 9 months, but as soon as that baby was out of her womb and in her arms, she was back to her old smarty-pants self again.

I think I’ve figured it out though. When she gets pregnant, all of her brain goes into that little person growing inside of her, so that it too may become a genius someday.

Proof you ask? Of course. Liz’s now 2 year-old son, Michael*, is bordering on Einstein. He counts, says his ABC’s, can tell you everyone’s names, understands that his little brother or sister is growing in his mom’s belly and can carry on a telephone conversation with relative ease. Did I mention he’s also adorable? Ok, that’s neither here nor there.

Basically, Liz lends her brain to her uterus for 9 months so that she can help balance out the growing population of morons in the world, and so far it seems to be working quite well. And if her current mindlessness is any indication of what’s to come, this baby will be twice as smart as Michael is.

The moral of my story is: if in the far distant future when I am with child, I suddenly become a sunshine-spreading optimist; rest assured that my fetus is busy inheriting every ounce of my callous pessimism, and will surely live up to its mother’s name.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent and overly hormonal.