Natural disasters down south

So I only have about a week left of my maternity leave/spring break/taking afternoon naps on the couch. I made the mistake of heading into school to copy a few things to be sent home this week before I return. When I pulled up I immediately noticed the dreaded janitor's car in the parking lot. I quietly swiped my entrance card, slowly opened the door, and creeped down to my classroom. I even left the lights off to remain completely incognito. After finishing things up I threw on my coat, exited the classroom, and ran straight into my nemesis in the darkened hallway. It was kind of like breaking out of prison when you make all these elaborate, thought-out plans, only to run into the toughest guard right as you're ready to jump out the window. We exchanged a few pleasantries before she asked how the labor went. I knew that no matter how I answered this, it wouldn't turn out good. I filled her in to which she responded that it was the worst pain she's ever had to endure. In fact, she'd like to propose that every father should have to have his bottom lip stretched out and wrapped over the top of his head to provide a glimpse of what the birthing process is like. Then she moved on to her own childbirth experience. The pain, she said, was so intense that she felt (and I quote) "like her stuff down there was going to explode." And if I didn't fully understand the comment she made sure to use the index fingers from both hands to point to her crotch "down there." Even I was at a loss for words so I simply said "See you next Monday" and continued down the hall.