Before I got married, Asna began pestering me on the likelihood of her turning into (in her words) a “Teenage Aunty.”
Just days after Reza and I tied the knot, we were at a restaurant with friends, when she asked rather loudly, “Hey Cikyong! Are you pregnant yet?!”
It was becoming a regular question coming out of her mouth and it was slowly getting on my nerves. I’ve never actually given her a reason for choosing not to get pregnant, so I came up with one.
“I don’t want to get pregnant. It’s scary.”
The look on her face changed when I said that. She instantly became concerned, came closer and confessed:
“I’m scared of getting pregnant, too. I don’t want to cut my tummy!”
She put her hands on her waist, showing where she supposed it would be cut.
“How do you think babies come out, again?”
“They cut the tummy.”
Then she twisted her body, raised her bottom and pointed to it.
“Or they come out of the butt!”
I decided to leave the explanation to my parents.
In conclusion, my sister thinks mums shit babies.