"Couldn't you have waited 13 more days to give birth?"
Yeah, that was the way the Drama King said hello to me the other day.
It seems that the uproar over "what's your astrological sign NOW?" has cut poor DK to the core. The young man has been a Scorpio since the day he was born (Nov. 10, 1983, for anyone who's counting). He is quite proud of his Scorpiosity. In fact, when he was 18, he went so far as to have a lovely *cough cough* scorpion tattoo permanently affixed to his upper arm/shoulder.
Now, with all the talk of the switch in the stars and signs and stuff, he is grumpily perplexed.
"I guess I have to start thinking about tattoo removal," he humphed.
While this would not be the worst thing he has ever had to do, in my opinion, I was still trying to maintain a straight face as he bemoaned his now-Libra fate.
"NO NO NO," he wept. "I am SO not a Libra. So really, couldn't you have held off for 13 more days?"
I really really REALLY tried not to laugh as I answered.
"No, dear. That arrival time was more determined by YOU than me. And besides, you were already 9 pounds 2 1/2 ounces. Can you imagine how big you would have been two weeks later?????"
Yeah, honestly, it was bad enough as it was, with that huge watermelon head and all. *Shudder* Let's not talk about this anymore, k?
He did find it hilarious that under these new guidelines, my Dec. 9 birthday now would move from the more traditional Sagittarius to some weird serpent thing with an unpronounceable name.
"Occi what? Ophi who? What the heck IS that thing?" I asked him. "To me it sounds like Doc Ock
-- and that's NOT a good thing!"
"Ophiuchus," DK patiently explained, "is a serpeant-bearer -- like a man grabbing a snake."
*cue the hysterical laughter of a 12-year-old boy masquerading as his mother*
"Uh ... I'm thinking that would be a better sign for YOU."
He was not amused.