And there he was.

Time spent in his mother’s organs, beloved belly, first home he ever did know, was not long enough. Not for him. His exit and subsequent entrance was all too swift, all too easy for him, as though he had done it before.

He had not. He didn’t even want to.

But now outside, wobbling and splayed on the wet, bloody ground, he cried. That wasn't loud enough. Lungs, scream! BWURR! ! WRURRR! ! ! AAUUURRRRR! ! ! ! Awesome.

Stuck upside down for all too long, searching and wailing for his parent, tubby little Cecil wriggled his way back to mother. Udders! BOOBS! HUNGRY!

With a delighted and quick latch on, he had very easily forgotten about being upset that he was out here and not in there. Mom was warm and she made killer milkshakes. Beat that.