Friday 30 September 2011

Tummy swelling? Not me!

THERE must be something in the air.
Nearly everyone around me is either getting married or having a baby.
That is of course, everyone but me.
And before I go any further, no this is not a hint to my current boyfriend (I'll let him off the hook - for now).
But yes I do want to get married one day.
You'd be hard pressed to find a girl who doesn't.
Especially when everywhere you turn someone is flashing a shiny rock your way or posting photos on Facebook of an ultrasound, which by the way show scary clear images these days.
It must be the age.
I guess once you reach your mid 20s things should be falling into place.
I've come to the conclusion that I must be a slow learner.
This greatly disappoints my parents who so desperately want to be grandparents, as well as my grandmother who insists on reminding me that if I don't have children soon she will be dead before I do.
What a way to encourage me to pop them out quick!
You think they would be happy with two gran-dogs (a self invented name by my mother).
My mum probably calls them gran-dogs because I treat my two Chihuahua's like children anyway.
Up until a few months ago they even slept on the end of my bed.
The rules changed though when the new man of the house stepped in and didn't take kindly to the thought of waking up with a small furry creature greatly resembling a rat between his legs.
The point was noted and they now have their own room and double size doona.
And they have also been down graded from human food (their favourite is roast chicken) to normal dog food. I guess the day of thinking they are not actually human had to come sooner or later. I suppose I only have myself to blame. 
I think I might start bribing my 22-year-old brother to start wanting children so the heat is deflected for a while.
I mean he has no intention of popping them out in the next few years but maybe some continuous nagging and offering to let him take the title of 'favourite child' might do the trick.
But I think the worst thing about when your friends start getting engaged and pregnant is that it automatically prompts them to ask you when you're going to start.
My boyfriend told me from the start of us dating that he wanted five kids.
Five! I almost died. I don't see him having to worry about popping all those out.
What a tough life men have. All fun and games for them.
But don't worry ladies I can assure you that when I do get pregnant I'll make sure to use every trick in the book for constant massages, pampering and getting out of cleaning.  I might even make whinging an art!

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