Yes Please by Amy Poehler Read Free Book Online Page B

I think of that.
    A week later, on the Friday before the Saturday that Amy became a mother, the entire cast stayed late to block a sketch called “The Barack Obama Variety Half Hour.” On a normal week, the last piece rehearsed was usually a smaller piece with a handful of cast members cursing their luck that they had to stay at the studio until eleven P.M . the night before a show. This time, having everyone there together was a luxury and a delight.
    While we waited for the cameras to set up, Maya and Fred started a bit pretending they were onstage for the seventy-fifth anniversary of SNL . Moving slowly and speaking softly, they delighted us with wooden award-show banter wherein they tried to remember the lines to their old sketches. Bill Hader took the stage pretending to be his own son and gave a speech about how much his “pops” had talked about working on the show before he died.
    We were all enjoying ourselves that night, but no one more than Amy. She was laughing the hardest but that wasn’t surprising. In my time at SNL no one was quicker or more gracious with a laugh than Amy—never more so than at the weekly table read, when it was needed most. When a new cast member or writer had a piece bombing to such silence that you could almost hear their pores expelling sweat, you could always count on Amy to give them a laugh. Though to be fair, it was less a laugh and more of a cackle. The writer Alex Baze described it as the sound one hears when running over a raven’s foot with a shopping cart. It is, without exaggeration, one of my favorite sounds on earth.
    We all headed home around midnight, in a great mood.
    A quick but necessary tangent: For years Amy has called me “Coco” and I have called her “Moses.” These nicknames sprung from a “Weekend Update” joke about a six-foot-tall camel named Moses and his tiny pony sidekick, Coco, who had escaped from a zoo in Texas. I don’t remember the joke but I do remember that we laughed every time we said “a six-foot-tall camel named Moses and his tiny pony sidekick, Coco.”
    At three A.M . or so on Saturday morning Amy texted me. “Water broke, Coco! You’re gonna do great!”
    And that text is pretty much all you need to know about Amy. Instead of focusing on any of her fear, her excitement, or the anticipation that comes with giving birth for the first time, she sent me words of encouragement. And when I went out to do “Update” without her I was glad she had. I was nervous and lonely but I remembered that “You’re gonna do great!” and felt better. Amy is rarely wrong.
    Doing comedy for a living is, in a lot of ways, like a pony and a camel trying to escape from the zoo. It’s a ridiculous endeavor and has a low probability of success, but most importantly, it is way easier if you’re with a friend.
    So that’s my chapter. I am going to shake Amy awake now so she can continue with the hard work of writing a book for all of us. I hope she got some rest!
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© Liezl Estipona

BIRTHING PLAN
    To all Caregivers, Doctors,
    Obstetrical Fellows, TMZ Interns,
    and Hospital Staff:
    We are looking forward to the birth of our child and ask that the following wishes be respected during our birth process.
    We have chosen to give birth in a hospital because of the outstanding facilities it makes available to us. We would also like to deliver our baby in a hospital since we spent most of our twenties getting stoned and watching episodes of ER , and so we know that delivering a baby is the best way to cheer up an attractive but beleaguered doctor. Please make sure our doctor is handsome and “cares too much.” We considered a home birth, but we just got our hardwood floors redone. We also considered a birthing tub, but the mother is concerned the water won’t be warm enough. Is it too late to flood the hospital room? Or turn it into a really fun foam party? We are sorry for asking. The mother is very pregnant and would like to remind everyone her brain