Post holiday, I meet my pal Louise for a quick catch up. Louise is on her soapbox….
‘I’m soooo sick of spending my hard earned cash to buy tiny outfits for tots who are too little to appreciate the gesture. Then you end up wasting an afternoon goo-ing over a non-descript baby and getting stuck in a corner with someone’s in-bred cousin who only gets invited to funerals and christenings. I wouldn’t mind but you never get to talk to your pal. And if you do, you’re treated to a blow-by-blow account of her labour. I’m sick of the whole kid/christening thing! Tell me you’re not pregnant!’ she eyeballed me critically.
I took a deep sigh, composed myself and was about to respond appropriately that children were a pain and parents are boring wastes of space….I must have left a fraction of a second too long. Busted. Louise recoiled in horror.’Oh my God’, you’re pregnant’ she gasped accusingly. ‘Yep, guilty as charged’,I confessed sheepishly. ‘You really are’, she repeated in shock. ‘And that’s why you’re drinking water. Congratulations hon, that’s fantastic news. I didn’t mean any of that stuff about kids. Oops is that the time? I have to go and renounce the devil at my nephew’s christening. Better find this church. Call me’
Well then I had to tell the Fiona and the rest of the posse. Each pal was told the news in hushed tones and made to swear they wouldn’t tell anyone else on pain of death. Who am I kidding? Still, its lovely to share the good news and I feel very special .Of course I am now a feminine, mystical, mother-to-be type, radiating love and calm.
‘I’m soooo sick of spending my hard earned cash to buy tiny outfits for tots who are too little to appreciate the gesture. Then you end up wasting an afternoon goo-ing over a non-descript baby and getting stuck in a corner with someone’s in-bred cousin who only gets invited to funerals and christenings. I wouldn’t mind but you never get to talk to your pal. And if you do, you’re treated to a blow-by-blow account of her labour. I’m sick of the whole kid/christening thing! Tell me you’re not pregnant!’ she eyeballed me critically.
I took a deep sigh, composed myself and was about to respond appropriately that children were a pain and parents are boring wastes of space….I must have left a fraction of a second too long. Busted. Louise recoiled in horror.’Oh my God’, you’re pregnant’ she gasped accusingly. ‘Yep, guilty as charged’,I confessed sheepishly. ‘You really are’, she repeated in shock. ‘And that’s why you’re drinking water. Congratulations hon, that’s fantastic news. I didn’t mean any of that stuff about kids. Oops is that the time? I have to go and renounce the devil at my nephew’s christening. Better find this church. Call me’
Well then I had to tell the Fiona and the rest of the posse. Each pal was told the news in hushed tones and made to swear they wouldn’t tell anyone else on pain of death. Who am I kidding? Still, its lovely to share the good news and I feel very special .Of course I am now a feminine, mystical, mother-to-be type, radiating love and calm.
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