"Happiness is
a red rabbit."
- Oza Meilleur
a red rabbit."
- Oza Meilleur
The year before I was born, my mother's first pregnancy came to term on June 20. Weighing in at 10 pounds 2 ounces, my brother Philippe chose to exit using the Frank Breech method, that is to say his legs were bent upwards, putting him in a "V" position, thus causing his fat buttocks to totally block his way through the birth canal.
After what must have been a hell of a shot at attempting to push an elephant through a keyhole, Mom was slowly losing her own battle to stay alive. That's when good ol' Doctor Hamel decided to proceed with Plan B -- pronto! -- before Mom exploded. Forceps being of no use in such drastic circumstances, Doc grabbed his scalpel and got my brother out, piece by bloody piece...all dead.
This, my friends, is how I came to inherit the red leatherette rabbit my father had bought for his first-born child.
Of course, I named it Phil.
Fifty-seven years later, it still reminds me of how lucky I was back then, and how happy I am to be alive right now.
Oh yeah!
