Special requests

Oh man, these high maintenance bitches drive me nuts when they're not pregnant. I couldn't imagine. Someone needs a slap in the face and a kick in the pregnant gut. Little self-centered bitch.

Fair's fair --

When baybee arrives, they'll no doubt want you to come over and see it gurgling and guffing away in its basket or whatever it's called.

So YOUR health-preservation rider goes as follows:

1. No poo. No smell of poo, no sight of poo, no sound of poo emerging or sight of straining, red face of infant.

2. No puke. No smell of puke, no sight of puke, no sound of puke emerging, not even that white watery junket-style milk puke.

3. No pee. No smell of pee, no sight of pee, no sound of pee being expelled.

4. No milk, no tits, no feeding.

5. No comments or discussion of ANY of the above.

6. NO 'goo-goo-gaa-gaa', 'ickle-wickle-bitsy!' or 'a-booo! a-boooo! heh-heh! a-booo!' bullshit or I'll have you wheeled away to the nearest asylum.

7. No crying. Not from ANYONE.

8. No information to be passed in relation to birthing process. Save that for people who enjoy adolescent 'gross-out' stories and who actually give a shit that you just turned your guts inside out.

9. No rudely staring and grinning at the baybee when you're talking to me.

10. Under no conditions try to make me hold it. This will not make me 'love' it more.

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"The death of creativity is a pram in the hallway"
- Cyril Connolly

Yeah! Sounds fair to me! And no one can argue with the health hazards of bodily waste, for Pete's sake. Ugh.