‘Out of the way!’ I holler as Special Bloke gazes out the window, blocking my view of the TV.
‘The programme is over Daisy.’
‘I am watching the credits actually’ I snort.
‘I know you’re pregnant, but you really need to get out more!’ he replies exasperatedly.
‘Har, har. No really, come here. I’m thinking about baby names. Look, there are the character names and the actor names…. not to mind the production teams’ names. It’s easier than buying one of those baby name books.
‘OK, what about Cody[actor]; or Kyle[producer]; or Dale[music]? Oh Randy[director]…that’s a good one.’ He sniggers.
‘So you think its going to be a boy then? I query ‘I quite like Lucy, Emily and Millie’
‘I don’t know. It’d be nice to have a boy. We could play football together. I hope it isn’t a girl. I’d be terrified she’d get pregnant.’ He looks worried.
‘Well little Cody or Dale could get their girl pregnant. We could have an angry Dad at our doorstep in 15 years or so, hurling abuse at the way we raised our son. How his little girl was an innocent angel until she met up with our teenage bag of hormones…’
‘I’d still feel more relaxed if it was a boy’ he mutters. ’Im off to meet the lads’.
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