The Story of Mädchen Stapleton

So I have been once again chastised by my mom for lack of updates, so while KT and Mädchen are napping, I will write a bit about the story of her coming into being. 

-As a side note: Mädchen is not her first name.  I definitely understand the problems that would come if she had such a name: in Germany people would be confused because Mädchen just means "girl", and in America people would have no idea how to pronounce it.  Also we would be dooming her to an eternity of having to insert a special character when typing her name.  That would make writing emails that much more difficult.  We are not that mean.  Maybe I am, but "we" aren't.  The boss has some doubts on the current name of choice, so it will remain unpublished until some degree of certainty reigns or when German law dictates that a decision must be made.  We are currently allowed to remain in our state of uncertainty.  Hence Mädchen Stapleton.  But I digress...

So let me tell you a tale, a fascinating tale of love, jealousy, wonder, betrayal, heroes, heroines, and cookies.  A tale so intriguing that little children in forthcoming ages will beg their nurse-maidens to tell them the story one more time before they go to bed.  And they will.  And the children will ask for it one more time, but the nurse-maiden will know it is simply a stalling tactic, and she will refuse.  Then, mysteriously, the child will have a stomach ache, to be soothed only with the thick medicine of entertaining media.  The worn nurse-maiden will give in, and let the child fall asleep to YouTube videos.  The child will develop a habit, and need to be soothed by said videos every night.  Yes, this tale is that amazing.  It's either that amazing, or I just have nothing to do in this little hospital room with two slumbering females nearby.  I'll let you guess which one resembles reality. 

So we begin our tale on the 16th night of the month of November, two days after the date foretold by the magicians gazing at their black and white screens filled with smokey images they claim tell them the preordained time of the emergence of the newling.  Four weary adults lounged in a fold-out couch watching "The Host" after spending a weary day chasing children and restoring used baby furniture.  Suddenly there was a stirring in the belly of the one carrying the future Stapleton, she who was destined to be burdened by an annoying father for the rest of her (or his) life.  The stirring came in regular occurrences, with a mildness and frequency that hinted toward a possible event. 

After the conclusion of the cinematic diversion, the two would-be and already-were parents realized that they were wholly unprepared for an abdominal emptying.  They frantically scurried about packing suitcases and showering the days grime off of their weary bodies, preparing for a dramatic entrance into the house of healing.  When all was made ready, it was decided that the amplitude of the contractions was succeeding, and all retired to their beds for what they ignorantly thought was a good nights sleep.  They were wrong.  Dead wrong.  Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnn.

At the second morning hour, the waves of stomach tightening began.  The waves were still rather sparsely spaced, but of sufficient intensity to give the impression that something was, in all actuality, happening.  Preparations for the long journey were made, good-byes were exchanged, and tears were shed as the couple made their way in their silver steel steed to the fortress predetermined as the place of emergence. 

Upon arrival, they were hooked up to a myriad of cabled beasts, beeping and ticking threateningly all the while.  The keeper of the ward (aka Hebamme) laid out the preconditions for the release of the euphoric potions which are reputed as bringing their user into a state of bliss and eternal joy.  The brave mother was denied the potions, and forced to wander the grounds on a quest to coax the Stapleton-to-be to venture further to the light.  She began her arduous journey with her trusty hunch-backed sidekick limping eagerly at her side, who occasional fetched water from the well when she called for it, and gave the occasional back rub when it was deemed necessary.  They wandered to and fro through the pale halls of the abandoned ward, asking themselves how they could accomplish their seemingly hopeless quest.  Her powers ebbed and waned as the strength of the surges threatened to overtake her.  She returned to the ward with the white flag of peace, pleading for the ward to allow her to have just the slightest taste of the much-sought-after potion.  The request was granted, but the Sorceress administering the potion was nowhere to be found.  And so the surging continued, undampened by the potion which seemed so close, but so far away.

The brave keeper of the ward sent out a summons in all the land, seeking the elusive Sorceress to produce the magic potion.  Word reached the secluded Sorceress and she arrived, her gown a flapping coat of emerald.  She carefully administered the potion, knowing that too much of it could end in utter disaster.  After the first dose, the effects seemed to be confined to the southward-side, which only hinted at the ecstasy that could accompany a full dosage.  Finally, the concoction reached full power and the effects were enjoyed immensely.  It was decided that a slight respite would be required before the final push of the proverbial hill.

After an energy-regenerating slumber, the somberness of the impending war could be felt in the air: it was time.  The keeper of the ward called for reinforcements, and the ranks were filled with courageous young warrioresses whose battle-scars attested to their skill and experience in such epic battles.  With a war-cry ringing from their lips, the army surged forward for the first offensive.  The defenses were heavy, and the first attack bursted against the gates like a wave against an unmoving rock.  Patience and persistence would be needed to take the fort.  The offensive army tried every position and strategy commonly practiced in such warfare, with no success.  Finally, the general suggested a daring, radical maneuver which was considered too dangerous to try.  Desperate times call for desperate measures. 

The success of the new maneuver was instantaneous, and the prize was immediately presented to the victors.  To the chagrin of some of the inexperienced warriors, the prize was just a slimy, wrinkled helpless being.  They had fought so hard for 11 hours for that?  But the higher ranks assured them that the small helpless being would someday become a full-fledged Stapleton, wreaking havoc and waging her own wars across the land.  And that, is the story of Mädchen Stapleton.  Or is it just the beginning..........?