- I'm not technically a mother yet
because my baby is still inside me.
But in 18 years, I definitely will be.
So for my son's 18th birthday,
I'm leaving him this video message to watch,
assuming YouTube still exists or you watch videos
in the back of your eyelids or something.
(clock ticking)
(upbeat music)
This is a personal message for my son
on his 18th birthday, so you can scram.
Hi, son.
Happy 18th.
It's 2039, assuming time is still linear.
And you're heading out in the world,
heading off to college if you listen to your mother
or just heading off.
I mean, you're obviously a talented soccer player,
probably led the league in headers
given how much you head butt my bladder in the womb.
I'm sure you've developed other talents since then.
First off, I want to wish you good luck.
I know I've always felt super lucky
that you chose me to be your parent.
And I'm sure whatever choices you make in the future
will be just as fortunate.
Yeah, you're leaving the nest, but don't worry about me.
It's going to be painful,
but hey, that's what epidurals are for,
assuming in 18 years,
you can just get them whenever you want.
You're going off on your own,
which means I did my job.
Even if like an induction,
you're not 100% leaving willingly,
you're still getting out, and I'm proud.
My advice, yeah, the world can be a scary place.
And I know like my womb, the house we share is comfortable
and safe, with questionable decor, but I assure you,
the world out there will be far more exciting.
Getting out there will help you grow
from a fetus to a baby, to a boy to a man, to a cyborg,
which I assume is a thing now.
I mean, I've got a lot of advice, you know, like,
hey, don't let me see you sneaking around smoking weed
because weed's definitely legal now.
You don't really have to sneak,
and don't want to hear about you kissing other boys
because I want you to just tell me
'cause it's like totally cool.
Your sexuality is your business.
You can be whoever you want to be.
Oh, and another thing.
I better not catch you stealing your father's gun
because it's 2039, and nobody owns guns
because we can all shoot lasers out of our eyes,
so why would you?
Pew, pew, pew.
Cyborgs.
And I know I've prepared you for the world
because I picked out your clothes,
made sure you had a great sense of style.
It's fashion.
I sang to you so you could learn to appreciate effort
over natural talent.
♪ And I love you ♪
I nourished you so you could grow to be strong.
(crunching)
This is all for you, baby.
I already ate the other bag.
This is your bag.
Kieron, you dropped the popcorn.
You're supposed to catch it.
I hope I've taught you to be lighthearted
and that you can use humor
to get through the hardest of times.
Like when you wake up in the middle of the night
to that scene from "Alien,"
with you trying to rip out of my stomach
and punching me in the ribs.
Yeah, that scene from "Alien" was traumatizing,
but I guess life does imitate art.
You got to laugh about it.
Honestly, if I'm this proud of what you've accomplished
in nine months, you know, like forming a face,
sucking your thumb, growing internal organs,
I think I'm going to be blown away
by what you have accomplished in the past 18 years.
Honestly, I think that's the best part of motherhood,
watching this little person develop his own personality,
his own interests, his own goals, but at the same time,
wishing I could hold you a little closer
for just a little bit longer.
As hard as it is for you to go out in the world,
(sniffles)
it's hard for me to see you go,
but I truly am excited for it.
It's 2039. Tears don't exist.
Go on, get out there.
I love you, son.
And thank you for giving me the best job I ever had,
motherhood.
I just wish you'd paid me a little more.
(upbeat music)