She’s in labour!

Sara sat on the chair hunched forward, worriedly twirling a strand of hair that had carelessly strayed away from her neatly tied ponytail as she breathlessly waited for someone to rescue her from the strained anxiety that had all of a sudden gripped her. She was locked in a fearful state of anticipation and apprehension, struggling to contain her premature enthusiasm.<

“Oh my God! No one’s answering!” she exclaimed, her eyes dancing with excitement. “Oh my God! She’s in labour! They’re at the hospital; that’s why they’re not answering!”
She was hyperventilating and even a healthy dose of skepticism at her theory wouldn’t calm her down.

“Shut up and stop being an idiot,” Zaynab, her sister chided. “They’re probably out or something. Or maybe she’s in one washroom, he’s in another, and mom’s sleeping, and so no one can hear their phones ringing.”

Sara paid no attention to her interjections. The moment their brother-in-law’s voicemail greeted her, Sara screamed into the phone, “Oh my God! Are you guys at the hospital?! Is she in labour? I can’t believe you guys didn’t call me, even after all the times that I warned you to call me as soon you began entertaining the thought of going to the hospital. You guys are so screwed. Call me back, right now!”

Without pausing for breath, she proceeded to reach their sister and dialed her number.

“Oh my God! She’s not answering either. She’s definitely in labour!” Sara squealed delightedly like a three-old-child’s first encounter with a clown holding a bouquet of balloons.

Zaynab could no longer contain herself and burst out laughing at Sara’s foolishness. “You are such an idiot! She’s not in labour, you freak,” she exclaimed.

“Of course she is. She’s not answering her phone. Oh my God! She’s giving birth!” was the only reply Sara could muster. In her excitement and nervous anticipation, she had proceeded to move forward and by now, was perched precariously at the edge of her chair. You’d need only give her a slight shove and she’d come tumbling down, landing very ungracefully on her bottom, phone still tightly clutched in her hand and glued to her ear, waiting for sister to pick it up and answer amidst her screaming, pushing and yelping in pain, to confirm that she was indeed going through labour. Much to Sara’s dismay however, her sister didn’t answer and the voicemail cut short her breathless anticipation, allowing her only to leave a fiery message, similar to the kind that would greet her brother-in-law.

“Listen, Sara,” Zaynab broke in, “you’re getting worked up for absolutely no reason at all. She’s not in labour, so relax. If she was, Mom would have called us for sure.” But it was of no use. In those few minutes, Sara’s cool and collected state morphed into a maddeningly disheveled one. Her excitement got the better of her and took over completely as the possibility of her sister pushing out her niece at this very moment, dawned upon her as a wild, bewitched look overcame her entire face. She was freaking out in the grandest sense of the word and Zaynab’s attempt to calm her down was of no use, whatsoever. Sara wouldn’t stop chattering even after Zaynab had given in and burst out laughing at her absurdity. Sara was like a little child – there was no calming her down and the echoes of her unbelieving and astonished “Oh my God”s reverberated through the entire house.

“Okay, I can’t take this. I’m calling them again,” Sara aggressively remarked, ignoring Zaynab who was now doubled over on the floor howling with laughter at Sara’s insanity. Much to her relief, their brother-in-law finally answered.

“Hello,” he said, quietly and hesitantly, his caller ID indicating he had to face the wrath of Sara on the other line.

“Oh my God! Are you guys at the hospital? Is she in labour?” Sara fired off the stream of questions barely able to contain herself.

“Uh, no Sara. We’re at my uncle’s house.”

“What?!” Sara yelled out in anger and dismay. “What is wrong with you guys?! Would it kill you to give me a call and tell me where you are? I was freaking out here thinking you were at the hospital!”

He laughingly replied, “Sorry, Sara. Do you want me to tell your mom or your sister to call you back?” he politely asked.

“No! Don’t call me back until you’re at the hospital and she’s in labour,” she barked and hung up. “Oh my God! What losers!” she angrily exclaimed.

Poor Zaynab was gasping for breath, clutching her stomach, unable to control herself as she broke into fresh peals of laughter. But she did manage to get out a very haughty “I told you so,” which increased Sara’s dismay by ten-fold.

And then, without warning, Sara’s eyes lit up joyously again as she wondered aloud, “What if she went into labour as soon as I hung up?!”