(Michelle Kondrich/The Washington Post)
By Larry David
August 25, 2024 at 8:42 a.m. EDT
“It must be remembered that the Democrats are the radical ones on this position because they support abortion up to and even beyond the ninth month. The concept of having an abortion in the later months and even execution after birth. And that’s exactly what it is. The baby is born, the baby is executed after birth is unacceptable. And almost everyone agrees with that.” — Donald Trump
He’s right: We do support executions after birth. In fact, many Dems support executions of kids up until age 4 or until they start kindergarten. I respect their opinions, but that’s a little late for my taste. I’m good until 2½.
I’ve never said this publicly, but my wife, Thelma, and I had a post-birth abortion, and it was just minutes after the baby was born. I was in my 30s when I met the girl of my dreams. We shared much in common, especially our belief in post-birth abortions. In fact, that was one of my questions on our first date, because it would have been a big red flag for me if she didn’t. Thankfully, she was even more adamant about them than I was. It was a match made in heaven.
A few months after we got married, Thelma told me she was pregnant. When she went into labor, I watched in awe as our baby emerged from the womb. After our son was swaddled, the doctor showed him to my wife, who had a bit of an odd reaction. I wouldn’t call it a wince; it was more a gasp of surprise — but not in a good way. Then the doctor showed him to me. I didn’t say out loud what I was thinking, but the acronym “WTF” crossed my mind, followed by “OMFG!” Could those be my genes? Granted, I’m no Mr. America, but I’m certainly not so unsightly as to produce that! Was my grandfather, whom I always called “Trigger” because of his resemblance to Roy Rogers’s horse, the culprit? Do horseface genes, like baldness, skip a generation? Maybe the problem was on Thelma’s side, but this was not the time to explore that.
I was disappointed, to say the least, but the thought of doing anything about it hadn’t crossed my mind. Thelma, bless her heart, was the one who brought it up.
“No way I’m taking him home. He’s embarrassing. Am I supposed to show that monster to my parents and my friends? I can’t even look at him without cringing.”
I had to admit she had a point. I turned to the doctor. He was wearing a Jimmy Carter campaign pin, so I had no qualms about asking his opinion.
The doctor pursed his lips. “I completely agree with her. I even had to look away for a moment when I pulled him out. He’s not going to have an easy life with a punim like that. So if you want to do it, now’s the best time.”
Fortunately, we lived in California. A lot of people around the country had to drive out of state for their post-birth abortions. What a drag that must’ve been — before podcasts!
I turned to Thelma. “You down?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
The doctor nodded and took the grotesquerie into another room. Thelma, who had been in a foul mood since the kid came out, perked up. “Hey, maybe we can go to Skip’s party now!”
Yeah, I thought, Skip’s party! I had been sorry to miss that. “Sure, why not? Nothing’s stopping us.”
“But aren’t they going to ask about the baby?”
“Yeah, so what? There’s going to be a lot of post-birth abortionists there. John and Patti had one. Jim and Ria offed twins!”
“Oh, right, right! The twins! Yeah, let’s go. How fun!”
And with that, the doctor returned. “Well,” he gushed, rubbing his hands together, “all done! You can go now.”
“Excellent,” Thelma said, getting out of bed. As we gathered our things, I reached into my pocket for the parking ticket, but, of course, per usual, it wasn’t there. I checked all my pockets twice: No ticket! Why does this always happen to me? What could I have done with it? I know the guy handed it to me.
I slammed my palm against the wall. “Now it’s going to take a year to get out of here, and they’ll probably charge me the max.”
But then the doctor came through again. “There it is on the floor!”
Phew! I effusively thanked the doctor for everything. And as I wheeled Thelma out of the hospital, I couldn’t help but wonder when she might be ready to try again.
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