Short oneshot I just had to write. This is a HUMAN fic, so..yeah. Enjoy! Special thanks to Jessi for helping me come up with quotes.
I don't own Toy Story. It belongs to Pixar! :)

Twenty-five year old Dolly Pride stared worriedly at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes looked surprised, and her hands were wrapped around her, running up and down her arms. Dolly fixed her favourite orange sundress so you couldn't see any wrinkles. Her hair was a dark shade of purple, which she had kept dying since the age of ten. Dolly pawed nervously at her hair, not in their usual pigtails. Although she was much older now, she had still kept her hair colour the same, and the purple on her made her look like an innocent teenager. Dolly turned herself away from the mirror, and started pacing the length from the shower to the bathroom door. Buck up, Dolly, she mentally told herself. He's a strong cowboy. You've been married for four years, he can handle anything, especially just this news.

"Dolly? I'm home!" Woody's voice called out. "Where are you?"

"In the bathroom!" she replied. Dolly opened the door to find Woody waiting for her. His brown eyes were twinkling like stars, and he had quite the dopey smile on his face.

"Afternoon, m'lady," he said in an over-the-top impression of a Southern accent. Dolly laughed. Woody bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "So, how was your day?" he asked, walking into the kitchen. Dolly followed him.

"Oh, you know. Same as usual." Dolly was doing her best to keep her voice level. She couldn't scare him. "How-how about you?"

"Ah, well," Woody started off, "Jessie's been a really great at the stables, and she really likes helping out Bullseye, but she's spends a lot of days thinking about her husband."

"Buzz?"

"Mm-hm." Woody went over to their fridge and pulled out a soda. "Do you need one?"

"No, actually, I have-uh, something to say too! About, uh, today..."

"What's up, Dolly?" Woody sat down next to his wife. She began twisting her hands in her lap. Why must she be so obvious and why must she act like the silly teenage girl he met they were fifteen?

"Well, we have to cancel my hair-dying appointment next week," she started. Woody raised his eyebrows.

"But you love your hair purple! Quite frankly, I'm used to it, and having your hair brown again would be... awkward."

"No, Woody. That's... not was I was trying to say." Dolly locked her eyes with his. "I'm pregnant."

Woody looked like he had just ran into a brick wall. Dolly stared worriedly at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." Woody mumbled. "That's totally normal...in a situation like this one..." He regained his composure. "So, I'll just go get the ice cream now, shall I?"

Dolly smiled. "Mint chip, please."

Dolly came out of their bathroom, the sound of a flushing toilet behind her. She wiped her mouth, still looking queasy. Woody was fixing his tie in front of their dresser. He turned around.

"I hate morning sickness," Dolly grumbled. Woody laughed and pulled his wife into a hug.

"Just don't sick up on any of my nice clothes, okay?"

"Woody..." Dolly moaned. It was the middle of the night, and Dolly couldn't sleep.

"Hm?" Woody mumbled.

"Can you get me a cupcake?" Woody groaned, flipped off the blankets, and walked into the kitchen, picking out one of the chocolate cupcakes they had bought the other day. He brought it back into their bedroom.

"Here you go," he said, handing her a napkin with it. Dolly gave the cupcake back to him.

"Can you get me a vanilla one?"

Woody rolled over in bed to face away from Dolly. She frowned.

"What's up?"

"The baby keeps kicking me."

Dolly sat at their dining room table, her belly protruding from her t-shirt.

"Woody?"

"Yes, dear?" he called from the kitchen.

"Can you make me a PB&J?"

"Sure." He came out a few minutes later with a sandwich on a plate. Dolly looked up.

"Thanks. Look, you put a lot of jelly, that's sweet, and the peanut butter looks absolutely delicious-"

"You don't even want it anymore, do you?"

"I hate having mood swings, I hate that I have to use the bathroom every 2 hours, I hate this! I wish the baby would just come already!" Dolly yelled, fuming and pacing around her living room. Woody absentmindedly flipped through the Sunday newspaper.

"Just remember, you asked for it, so you better not scream at me later."

Dolly scowled.

Dolly held Woody's hand tightly, so that he was beginning to lose circulation. She had been rushed to the hospital when they found out she was starting labor.

"I HATE YOU WOODY PRIDE!" she screamed. Woody gave her a look.

"I thought you said you wouldn't yell at me." Dolly growled.

"YOU DID THIS TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?"

"Come on, dear, we know that's not going to happen. And I thought you said you liked kids."

"SHUT UP!" This continued on for about, oh, two hours.

"Well," the nurse said, "it's a girl." Dolly gasped with relief, and Woody took his daughter into his arms.

"I am a god," he said proudly. The nurses and Dolly gave him a weird stare.

"What?"

"I have created life!"