Your Mamma Was Here

Yesterday, J and I were driving along when I noticed the following slogan in the next lane. As always you can make the picture bigger by clicking it, but in case you can't make it out, it says, "born alone, die alone."
Oooooo. Very hardcore. Very tough, Mr. Macho Pants. But here's the problem.
That's a ridiculous thing to say!
Die alone, sure. By all means, if that's your preference. But- born alone? Really? Someone forgot to have a special talk with you when you hit puberty about 10 minutes ago. And look, as a mother, I'm a bit offended.
Let me make up for what you missed in 5th grade health class, sir. Ahem. It is physically impossible to be born alone!!! What, you popped out of a cabbage patch? You sprung forth from the ether? Where was your mama, busy watching HSN and so you just teleported your little fetus-self into the hospital? And all the nurses were on break?!
Nope. When you were born, you were so un-alone that you come from inside another person's body. You don't get much closer companionship than that.
And further more, when you were born, you were a great big pain in the you-know-what. Literally. So, let's have a little respect here, Mr. Macho Pants, for the person who suffered and labored so that you could be born. So very NOT alone. Now that person was tough.