I've heard a claim that at the instant a wee-widget screams his or her way into this troubled orb, the mommy is immediately flooded with a collection of happy hormones that allegedly dulls the memory of what she just went through.

Since I have never been female or pregnant, I can't say categorically if that is true, but I have to admit it makes sense to me. If every woman who ever gave birth retained a bright awareness of each oh-my-gosh associated with the process, I fear the long-term future of the species would be in doubt.

I began to ponder the concept of chemically induced parental forgetfulness during a recent family celebration that had nine of my beloved grandwidgets rampaging around Casa Aylworth III.

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