Baby (Causing) Fever

(This story takes place at my work, as i'm sitting at my desk)

I watched it crawl toward me as the acid in my stomach began balling up and growing into one large mass. The rotten Baby was inching it’s way in my direction, scooting itself along the floor…closer…closer…taunting me like a childhood nightmare: One, two, Freddy’s coming for you…(One, two, Baby’s coming for you…)

I think I actually started spitting up (just a little bit) in my mouth as I watched the Baby closing in on me. I can’t just get up and walk away, its mom is watching. I don’t want to provoke any kind of conversation about my OCD, and I’m especially not in the mood to hear

-Oh, I didn’t know you were THAT way

or endure any looks of hate from the Baby lovers near by. The fact remains, though, this Baby was nearing it’s destination. That smug smile on it’s face that was screaming: -

-I’m cute! Not a damn thing you can do!

I had to think quickly. I had no choice. So I did it.

-Dear God, PLEASE make this thing disappear!

All of a sudden, the Baby’s head began it’s descent…down…slow motion, but definitely going down… Next I saw the arms begin to give way, and to it’s mom’s horror, the head totally came crashing down with a loud:

THUMP.

At first, it was just a smile that escaped my lips. And then I heard it. Crying, from the baby. Loud crying at which point I let out a faint sound of my own: a giggle. Soon I was laughing-uncontrollable loud laughter. The kind that you have to leave the room to regain your control. Or, in this case, to avoid the look on a mom’s face.