When I was a child my mom used to volunteer for the Right to Life organization in a booth at the state fair. She would sit proudly and distribute literature and pencils to cowboy-booted and mustachioed passers by about the miracle of life and how that miracle begins at conception. "Every life is precious" she would announce. Her deep rooted belief that every child has the right to be born was evident in the fierce, blue eye shadowed stare she would shoot at the Right to Choosers across the way.
Until recently, I have always felt that my mother loved my brother, sister and I, no matter how many times we annoyed her or made her so angry that most moms would have wished they had exercised their right to choose. A few months ago I drove up to my mom's house for a visit and we were out running errands. We drove past a billboard that featured several middle aged women with somber looks on their faces and a slogan that read "We had abortions and we regret it." My mother looked at me and I expected to hear her agree with the anti-abortion message. Instead she just said. "I regret not having three abortions."
Abortions tickle.
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